


Voltron Paranormal Research Society

by PeridotWraith



Series: VPRS Verse [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura Is Motherfucking Royalty, Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Angst, Demonic Possession, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gifted Lance, In the form of ghosts and background characters, Keith And Lance Have Catty Cat Fights, Lance/Pidge/Hunk brot3, M/M, Original Character(s), Playful Keith, Polydins, Praise Kink, Smut, Spanking, The Ghost Hunters!AU literally no one asked for, This sounds really dark, its not all sad i promise, protective friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeridotWraith/pseuds/PeridotWraith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What afflicted the halls of the Castle of the Lions was much more insidious than a mere haunting. Allura is just worried that to free her home of this darkness she'll have to convince these five idiots to work together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hunk, my man, roll call!”

Pidge peeked up from his laptop and paused the video he was reviewing. He hadn’t noticed Lance gathering his folders or Hunk moving in closer to the table. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it; 7:30 A.M. Meeting time. That meant he had accidently pulled an all-nighter. Again.

“Wait,” Pidge called, “I’m not ready!”

“Nuh-uh! 7:30. On the dot. Every Friday,” Lance said testily, “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

“Actually, you do. At least let him start the recorder, Lance.” Hunk chided.

Pidge shot him a grateful look before bolting around to gather his notes and the equipment. After a moments debate, he decided to go ahead and take the time to grab himself a cup of coffee.  
They were already late. Now that he was away from his shadowed corner, he had to shield his tired eyes from the light of morning. How had he missed sunrise?

Well, the Witch Trap footage was far from boring. Really, it was a shame it would never air.

Returning to the meeting table, Pidge eyed Lance dubiously. He had insisted they resume business as usual despite… everything. He was looking rough, that was certain. There were bags under his eyes that rivaled Pidge’s own and a sallowness to his skin that turned his usual bronze to an ashy gray. He was slumped back in his chair looking washed out and unnaturally still in the harsh sunlight pouring in the window. If he wasn’t seeing the dust motes twirl in the air from Lance’s breath, Pidge could almost convince himself he was looking at a corpse.

“Here,” Pidge said, placing his own coffee in front of his friend, “It’s rolling.”

Pidge took his own seat and placed the recorder in between them.

“Alright, roll call!” Lance called again wrapping his hands around the steaming mug gratefully.

“Lance McClain? Pidge Gunderson? And, Hunk Garett, that’s me!” Hunk listed in between the other’s chimes of “here”s.

“Okay, all present! The time is 7:32 AM –Pidge, don’t think I’ll forgive the delay because of coffee, you rascal! –and thus commences the 84th weekly meeting of the neo Garrison University Paranormal Research Society. I am Lance McClain, your humble President; handsome, intelligent and 100% recovered from brief medical issues due to our previous case at Witch Trap. That concludes my report.”

Lance ignored the dubious looks sent his way and motioned for Pidge to continue.

“This is Pidge Gunderson, technician. I’m reporting the footage of Witch Trap to be just about done editing wise. There’s quite a bit of hard evidence, activity wise. As for whether we’ll post it…?”

“Negative on that,” Lance cut in, looking discomforted, “I’ll be storing it in the GUPRS archives along with my own detailed report but I am censoring this one.”

“We understand.” Hunk said, Pidge nodding along.

“That said,” Pidge continued, “My last bullet is that our equipment needs only minor repairs. Total cost around $15 dollars, maybe.”

“I’ll log it in the expense report.” Lance nodded, “Hunk?”

“The last episode we posted – that’s the Greene Manor case from two weeks ago – is sitting at 27,000 views as of last night. Not bad, but not our best. I’ve posted a slight hiatus notice on the site and twitter, and emailed the Witch Trap client about our findings. I’ve also been sorting through requests for a case worthy of week-long investigation to kick off summer break, if that’s okay?”

“Sweet! Any good ones?” Lance asked more enthusiastically, loving the idea.

“Two, kind of. An old plantation in Kentucky and Transylvanian castle?” Hunk shuffled through his notes, “Sorry, that was a Romanian fortress.”

“What?!”

“So cool!”

“Wait, hold up!” Hunk tried to calm them, “I’m still not sure it’s a real case or just someone messing with us! Hypothetically, the client is a Countess.”

“No way.” Lance groaned, “Why would a Countess ask a bunch of college kids from halfway across the world for help? Probably a scam!”

“We do have a fair amount of popularity,” Pidge reasoned, “Couldn’t hurt to look into it. We could always ask for more details and research the client a bit.”

“Hunk, do that. Plan the Kentucky case, but if the other one is legit it has priority. Pidge, if you could maybe get some sleep before your finals tomorrow? Don’t want anyone failing; I’d hate to have to kick someone out.”

“Yessir!” They chirped in unison.

“Meeting adjourned, then!”

 

 

Shiro was watching gray mist creep along the moor after a long lockdown in the English countryside when his cell phone rang. Dodging Keith’s inquisitive look, Shiro wasted no time in answering it.

“Allura? What’s wrong, you always text?” he asked.

Keith fidgeted, trying very hard to not look like he was eavesdropping.

“Really? Katie Holt?” Shiro asked, “No, you’re right. She should know. I’ve emailed her off and on since—Well. Yeah.”

Shiro pulled the phone away from his ear to tap away at it, motioning for his companion to move closer.

“Okay, you’re on speaker, Allura. Keith is right here.”

“ _Hello again, Keith_!” called a voice from the phone, tinny and distorted by long distance.

“Countess,” Keith greeted, “Is everything alright?”

“ _Actually, not really_ ,” Allura admitted, “ _We’ve been having more and more incidences in the Castle of Lions. Violent incidences._ ”

“That sounds serious. Will you allow us to come investigate now?”

“Keith!” Shiro scolded, “Don’t push, she has her reasons!”

“ _No, it’s quite alright. Even though the activity started when Shiro appeared on our land over a year ago it hasn’t stopped since he left. I can no longer assume his presence will cause any additional risk to my staff. Not after_ …”

“What happened, Allura?” Shiro asked softly.

Keith frowned at the amount of guilt in his mentor’s words. He knew whatever Shiro had done or brought about in that year hadn’t been his fault, but the man often blamed himself for even the smallest of consequences.

“ _Shay, the possessed maid that I was telling you spoke of Katie Holt… We weren’t able to shake the hold that was over her. She snapped herself out of it by fracturing her own spine. It must have been the pain that woke her_.”

Keith watched Shiro turn pale, and hated himself for not being able to comfort him.

“We’ll be there in a week,” Keith said, “We’ll need more equipment and more information. Can you handle that?”

“ _Right away. I’ll also handle talking to Katie Holt. I have one other stipulation though. It will be covered in the email_.”

Keith opened his mouth to protest.

“Anything you ask. We will be your guests, so we’ll follow your rules.”

“ _Thank you, Shiro. I look forward to seeing you again_.”

“Ditto.”

Shiro snapped his phone shut and turned to Keith with a slight smile.

“Let’s pack up, kiddo! We’re headed to Romania.”

 

This was the worst, the _absolute worst_ part of the semester. His final was done, the lecture was done and Professor Iverson, _that total asshat_ , was making them sit in silence for an hour as they waited for the bell to ring. Hunk and Pidge should already be in the HQ by now. Lance was ready, so ready to get out there and deck those ghosts in the face. Especially after the nightmare that was the last case.

After what seemed like an eternity of wallowing in his own angst the buzzer signaled their sweet release and Lance could almost cry for joy.

“Mr. McClain, if you would stay for a chat?” Professor Iverson called out as Lance tried to escape in the crush of people leaving the lecture hall.

Lance didn’t bother hiding his groan, or his dismay. The animosity between him and the Professor was legendary and a few students sent him sympathetic glances. He made his way back to Iverson’s desk and waited awkwardly for the room to empty. After the last straggler had slunk away, Iverson took another minute straightening his papers, just to torture him surely, before pinning Lance with a hard look.

“Sir?” Lance asked.

“I’m sure you are aware of my opinion of your little club activity—“

“The Garrison University Paranormal Research Society is a well-respected part of Garr U tradition, Professor, not a club.” Lance recited. This conversation was far from new.

“—but I have a particular request for your little _ghost club_.” Iverson continued, stressing both his opinion of the GUPRS and giving the impression that this was more of an order than a request.

Lance scowled for a moment before giving into the voice that sounded particularly like Hunk telling him to _not give us a bad name, Lance, for the love of god, be professional!!_

“What can we do for you, Sir?” He asked. _Go fuck yourself_ , he added in his head.

“I got a call from a friend, an important friend, asking for an investigation,” He said, “I trust you all have passports, correct?

“Passports?” Lance asked, suddenly more interested.

 

 

“The Voltron Paranormal Investigators don’t work with others.” Keith said flatly, the _ziiiiip!_ of his suitcase echoing with finality.

“This is the best lead we have on _you know what_ , Keith,” Shiro tried to soothe him, while attempting to pack away a mess of cameras and equipment, “Isn’t that worth bumping shoulders with another team?”

“It’s not about bumping shoulders! We can’t promise their safety!”

“I understand, Keith, but they have tons of experience on their own. From what I can tell, most of their team is sensitive in the least. They won’t be our responsibility.” Shiro said.

“We have every intention of stirring up a non-human spirit, Shiro! No civilians!” Keith snapped.

There was a moment of tense silence, while Keith was visibly calming himself. Shiro gave up on his game of equipment Tetris and move to place a comforting hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“What do you want to do, make demands of Allura?” he asked softly. If Keith asked him to, he would, “We could just decline the offer. We’ve made do with other leads before.”

“That maid said _his_ name, Shiro! This is it, we’ve waited a whole year for the Countess to let us investigate. If we just explained to her that these kids would be in danger—“

“They aren’t kids, Keith, the GUPRS has plenty—“

“ _Did you just say the GUPRS_?” Keith hissed.

 

 

“Hey, Pidge! Come look at this!” Hunk called from his desk, “Wake up, Piiiidddgge!!!”

Pidge stirred from his spot on the couch, groaning and stretching as his sat upright. He took a second to rub his bleary eyes and card through his wild hair.

“Wha--? This had better be important Hunk.”

Hunk couldn’t help but smile, despite the anxiety twisting in his gut. Grumpy, sleepy Pidge was his favorite Pidge. He patted the seat next to him at his desk and watched fondly as Pidge shuffled over. Once Pidge was settled in, slumped into Hunk’s shoulder, he glared at the laptop.

“What’s up? Did the A/V Club send another email over the mics we… liberated?”

“Ah,” Hunk said, “No. Well, yeah, they did. But that’s not it. Remember the weird scam case I told you and Lance about last week?”

“The supposed Transylvanian Duchess that supposedly wanted us to come help with a supposed demonic infestation?”

“Yup! I’ve been emailing for a while now. She's been so accommodating! She even called our department head help try to fund the trip! I actually sent a copy of one of our investigations, ya’know, why not?” Hunk replied nonchalantly, “And about an hour ago she sent back a video of the incident that caused her to reach out to us.”

“You sent out an episode? Was it one that we had already aired?!” Pidge demanded.

“Well… I sent one of the episodes we decided not to post.” Hunk clarified.

Pidge stilled.

“Was it…?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“ _Hunk_.”

Pidge rubbed at his temples and sighed heavily through his nose. Hunk fidgeted. He felt a surge of guilt well up in his chest. Had he gone a little too far to send off an episode without his teams consent? That wasn’t unforgiveable or even all that bad. He sent clips and did digital interviews all the time. That was his job as the GURPS front man. He was there to get the word out.

But footage that had been censored by Lance? That was bad. Footage of Witch Trap? He would be lucky if Lance merely broke his nose when he found out.

He hadn’t done it to be an asshole though. And he hadn’t done it thoughtlessly.

Something in the emails had rung true to Hunk. Some of the described phenomenon had been just a little too… real. The woman wasn’t asking for much, not even for them to film an episode.

Just that they help in any way they can.

“She’s not a Transylvanian Duchess, Pidge.” Hunk said, “Her name is Countess Allura Altea and she lives in a Romanian fortress called the Castle of Lions. And she’s real. I googled her.”

Pidge swiveled in his seat the send a Hunk a pointed look.

“So she’s real,” Pidge said slowly, “That doesn’t make this not a scam.”

“She sent me a video of one of her maids, supposedly possessed. I think you should watch it,” Hunk told him with measured gentility. “You, in particular, should watch it.”

Hunk pushed the laptop at his friend, with a grainy video loaded onto the screen. He watched his friend go pale as the video started. He averted his eyes from the video, he had already seen it once and that was enough for a lifetime. Besides the visuals – the strange contortions, the unblinking stare, the twisted smirk—they weren’t what was important. It was her words.

She was hissing and laughing in what Hunk could only assume was Romanian before switching to English and muttering out an address over and over.

“That’s… the address of our headquarters? That’s _here_.” Pidge muttered.

The warm sunny feel of their safe haven suddenly felt cold and strange. Like an unseen threat lurked. But that was impossible, Lance’s Abuelita blessed this place twice a month, as did the local priest.

“Keep listening,” Hunk said, wrapping a comforting arm around his friend.

The maid continued chanting their address over and over ignoring the cameraman shouting at her in Romanian, and just when Hunk felt like it would never end-- “ _Tell pretty little Katie Holt that her family sends their regards!_ ”

The video ended and an oppressive silence settled over them. Hunk wanted to say something, anything, but any words turned to dust in his mouth.

“Pidge,” he started.

“Send me that video,” Pidge said shortly, “We need to somehow convince Lance to go to—“

The door slammed open causing the two to jump a foot into the air. Hunk had a hand in his desk, wrapped around a vial of holy water in a second only to whip around to the sight of Lance, arms outstretched and infectious grin on his face.

“Pack your bags, my dudes!” Lance cried out, “We’re going to Transylvania!”

 

 

“I don’t understand why we have to pick them up.” Keith grouched, crossing his arms.

He wasn’t fond of airports. Too many people.

“Allura’s staff is busy setting up rooms for us. Besides, they were from a year below you at Garrison, right? Don’t you know them?” Shiro asked, holding up their sign with a hastily scrawled “GUPRS” in sharpie up as yet another wave of passengers walked past them. No takers.

“No. I disbanded the club before I dropped out. Too many ignorant people messing with things they shouldn’t. It was dangerous, so I ended it after I was given the President position in my sophomore year. They would have showed up later,” Keith scowled, “And undid all my work by starting it up again.”

“I see.”

“Hey, Lance! Pidge! I found ‘em!!”

Shiro and Keith looked up at a close by shout to a big man with a headband and a broad smile waving at them. He rushed up and shook Shiro’s outstretched hand.

“Hey, the name’s Hunk Garett,” He told him happily, “You must be Shiro of the Voltron Paranormal Investigators, right? The Countess told us you would be here.”

“That’s me,” Shiro confirmed.

He took one of Hunk’s multiple bags off him and motioned for Keith to do the same. Another two people, one tall, gangly and dark the other petite and somehow familiar to Shiro, came up dragging Luggage behind them.

“This is Lance McClain, our President, and Pidge Gunderson, our technician.” Hunk introduced them, “Guys, this is Shiro.”

Shiro shook their hands in turn and gestured toward Keith.

“This is—“

“I know that mullet anywhere,” Lance cut it bitingly, “Keith fucking Kogane.”

Shiro watched as Keith stiffened, and surprisingly so did the rest of GUPRS. Hunk dropped his smile and friendly air in a second flat and Pidge snorted derisively.

“This is him, huh?”

“What? I thought you didn’t know them Keith?” Shiro asked.

“I don’t,” Keith said with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, right, asshole!” Lance cried, “You refused me entry to the GUPRS eight times in my freshman year!”

“Oh, you,” Keith said lightly.

“ _’Oh, you’_ , he says!” Lance hissed, getting into Keith’s space, “Like he didn’t singlehandedly ruin my whole first year!”

“Hey now,” Shiro stepped in to separated them, “Let’s all calm down.”

“Yeah, Lance,” Hunk said, “Don’t let him ruin our fun summer investigation!”

“Plenty of time to dick punch him afterwards,” Pidge added.

“Just try it, runt!” Keith snapped.

“No! No… none of that!” Shiro commanded, “Let’s all settle down. Now.”

They hushed down and turned to him, disgruntled but obedient. Shiro couldn’t believe they listened.

“Okay,” he continued, “Let’s get over to the Castle of Lions. We can discuss how we will all _get along_ and _work together_ on this case after we get settled.”

Shiro almost felt as if he was leading a group of rowdy children out of the airport with all the pouty looks and hostile glances. He had to separate Keith and Lance twice more on the way to the car. _What am I? A paranormal researcher or a kindergarten teacher?,_ he thought as he helped load the car and watched as Keith pointedly ignore Lance’s call of “Shotgun!” and sat in the passenger seat. He sighed as Pidge and Hunk encouraged Lance’s shocked screech with outraged gasps.

“Dude, you don’t betray the sacred rights of Shotgun!”

“Yeah, not cool, Kogane!”

“Whatever, man, it’s VPI’s car,” Keith retorted.

The older man did his best to fill the stony silence that had settled over the group through two agonizing hours of creepy rural Romanian car ride. He chattered on about his limited knowledge of the history of the Castle of Lions and some finer details to the activity Allura and her staff had experienced. Eventually, the GUPRS seemed to be warming up to him and asking question and even making jokes. Keith kept his sullen mood but put in the occasional detail Shiro had forgotten.

“Turn up the radio!” Lance called suddenly.

Keith shot him a questioning look but obliged knowing Shiro wouldn’t. He had a firm “both hands on the wheel at all times” policy. He promptly regretted everything as the entire car was filled with a cacophony of horrible, horrible Romanian pop and three off pitch-college students.

“How do you all know the words??” Keith cried, Shiro shooting him an equally mystified look.

“Dude!” Lance crowed back, “How do you not know the Numa Numa song??”

“Because it’s in Romanian?!”

Shiro almost cried in relief as the wrought-iron gates of the Castle came into view. He turned down the radio, ignored the chorus of “awww”s from the back and announced their arrival and urged them to get out and grab their luggage.

The Castle towered over a small fenced-in valley, with its back flush against a wide pine forest. Through the creeping mist Lance caught sight of a moat. A sudden chill dripped down his spine and he tore his eyes from the murky waters. There was an impressive amount of spires and towers, the castle being more tall than wide. A slightly overgrown, but nonetheless impressive garden sat of to the side. It even had a hedge maze.

“Allura!” Shiro called waving to a woman striding towards them in riding gear, pulling a horse alongside her.

“Shiro! How I’ve missed you!” She responded wrapping him in a warm embrace.

She turned to the give the rest of them appraising looks before breaking into a beautiful smile. Pidge and Hunk snickered at Lance’s slight blush.

“Keith, welcome back. And you must be the GUPRS! Thank you for coming!”

“Our pleasure, Countess Altea.” Hunk replied before Lance could put the moves on her.

“Oh, please! Call me Allura!” She laughed, “And leave your bags there, the staff will grab them.”

She turned and started back to the castle, motioning for them to follow. Shiro fell easily into step beside her and Keith trailed after him.

The GUPRS traded looks, hanging back a moment.

“This is really happening.” Hunk said.

“Crazy shit,” Pidge agreed, “That’s a fucking castle.”

“Come on, GUPRS!” Lance ordered, “Let’s rock it!”

Lance bolted forward, grinning. Pidge and Hunk laughed, jogging after him. By the time they had caught up they were entering a massive entrance hall as Allura handed her horse off to a stable boy just outside. The inside was just as austere and gloomy as the outside but held an air of undeniable wealth. High ceilings and deep red carpets greeted them. Servants were running about, shooting them inquisitive looks. A few waved and smiled at Shiro.

“Should we start by showing them to the room we’ll use as headquarters?” Allura asked Shiro.

“Sounds good to me.” He said.

Allura lead them up grand staircases and through winding hallways. Lance could easily see this place having a genuine spook or two.

“We’ll be meeting Coran, my head butler.” Allura told them, “He’ll serve as your guide and main witness. He’s the one all the staff reports incidences too. Anything you need, he can point you in the right direction.”

“Will we be able to interview the other staff members as well?” Lance asked walking alongside Allura, “And is there anywhere you don’t want investigated?”

Keith and Shiro exchanged a glance of surprise. They had yet to see Lance in professional mode.

“Of course, talk to anyone as long as they consent to an interview. And go wherever you need! I’ll ask that you inform me if you enter my personal wing, but you are welcome there as well.” Allura said, “Here we are! This is the master suite, it belonged to my late father. He had it blessed many times and it is often regarded as the most holy place in the castle. Please, use it as your headquarters!”

They had stopped in front of ornately carved wooden doors. They were lead inside where they were greeted by a friendly man, Coran.

“A pleasure! A pleasure to work with you all!” He crooned, “I’ve set up tables and computers for you all to use in here, as well as a coffee pot! Figured you’ll be needing it.”

Lance watched Pidge and Keith discuss equipment placement with Coran for a moment before turning to where Allura, Hunk and Shiro where marking camera placement over what looked like a map of the castle. Feeling momentarily useless, he felt compelled to stroll over to the window to peak out over the grounds.

“We can conduct interviews with interested staff after dinner, right Lance?” Hunk asked. The three at the map looked up when no reply came and turned to where Lance was entranced at the window.

“Lance? Hey, buddy? You cool?” Hunk called again, getting the whole rooms’ attention.

Still Lance stared intently out. After a moment of silence, Coran stepped up behind him. He placed a hand on his shoulder. Lance jolted violently and turned to the man with wild eyes.

“Get down!” he shouted, shoving Coran harshly back.

“Lance! What—“

Then the window behind Lance exploded, raining jagged edges down unto him.


	2. Chapter 2

After Witch Trap, Hunk had sat on the edge of his bed and made Lance swear he would never take risks like that ever again. Lance had been barely conscious, his eyes hooded and his pale skin slicked with cold sweat, but he promised. He must have seen the worry in Hunk’s eyes because he had wrapped Hunk’s clenched fist in his own clammy hand and apologized. Now, he did the same as Hunk caught him as he staggered forward, trying to avoid the shards of glass embedded in his jacket. There was blood coming from his head somewhere, Hunk noted faintly, but he couldn’t tell where the wound was.

“ _Lo siento_ ,” he whispered, currently, “Hunk, I’m so _sorry_ , but I’m gonna pass out now. Don’t call Abuelita.”

“Lance, do not close your eyes,” Hunk ordered, “Stay awake, you dick, or I swear to God I’m gonna call her!”

Hunk could hear Allura yelling at a maid to fetch a doctor, Shiro frantically telling Keith what bag their med kit was in, Coran and Pidge crunching through the shatter remains of the window to their sides, but he paying more attention the shaky laugh coming from Lance.

“No, really,” he rasped, “Its nap time.”

And he was out. Hunk almost felt offended.

 

 

_The trees where whipping past him, around him, as he sprinted through the forest. Not the pines of Romania, but droopy willows and pale aspens of Witch Trap. In the wind he heard Pidge calling. He remembered this. He knew where he was going._

_Lance’s legs burned and his heart raced, but it was different than the first time, he could tell. There was no frantic urge to_ get away, get it away from them _, but his body moved on its own._

_The trees parted and he broke into the same clearing Hunk had found him in that first time. The same Cottonwood stood proud, in full bloom under a heavy moon. There was no apparition under it boughs. Lance was almost disappointed. A warm wind shook the cotton loose and it drifted over him like a midsummer snow._

_He slowed to a walk and enjoyed feel of tall grass brushing his fingertips as he approached the tree. There was a sense of peace in the very air which starkly contrasted his memories of terror. He reached the tree, turned to investigate the area around him. Finding nothing, he plopped himself down settling in between the roots._

_“Why am I here?” He called out, “Are there any spirits attempting to talk?”_

_There was a long stretch of silence._

_“Come on, now. I’m never alone in these… dreams.”_

_“…_ hush _…”_

_Lance’s head whipped up to the branches above him. Despite the voice, he saw nothing. The branches above him were empty of anything except the breeze._

_“_ Shy _!”_

_Lance averted his eyes from the branches quickly. There was no point in agitating the spirit by looking for it if it didn’t want to be found._

_“Sorry, sorry!” Lance called back, “I’ll be quiet if you want to rest, I’ll be listening if you want to talk.”_

_“…_ rest…Lance…heal _.”_

_“I should rest?” Lance asked, feeling a sudden heaviness in his limbs and eyelids, “Yeah, you right.”_

_He let his heavy eyes close, and drifted away to the feeling of chilly fingers running through his hair._

 

 

 

“We need to wake him up!” Allura said as Coran laid Lance face down on a bed in the room adjourning the HQ.

“No!” Hunk said. “Don’t!’

“What? Why?” Shiro asked as the resident doctor moved forward to start cutting Lance’s clothes away from his back.

Hunk found himself firmly in the gaze of the entire room. Only the doctor ignored him in favor of his patient. The student turned to Pidge to explain.

“He said ‘nap time.’” Hunk said weakly.

Pidge’s eyes widened in understanding. He turned to the others trying to find the words to explain.

“Nap time?” Keith asked.

“Let him be unconscious while the shards are being removed,” Grumbled the doctor in heavily accented English, “Then let him rest until he wakes up on his own.”

Hunk and Pidge traded a relieved look that didn’t escape Shiro’s notice. Allura and Coran were speaking in rushed Romanian with the doctor as he worked over Lance. Keith laid a hand on Shiro’s arm, nodding his head toward the door. Shiro followed him into the hallway.

“Nap time,” Keith quoted, “That sounds like a code word.”

“I thought the same.” Shiro agreed.

“Think they’ll let us in on it?”

“Maybe,” Shiro said, “Let’s not push it, though.”

Keith nodded his assent, though he looked unhappy about it. The door next to them opened and Coran peaked out.

“The doctor just finished up, gentleman. Come on in, Allura wants to speak with everyone.”

Shiro and Keith followed him back into the makeshift infirmary, moving to join the loose circle of people standing around Lance’s bed.

“Oh, good!” Allura said as they joined.

“The boy will be fine,” The doctor said, “He has shallow scratches here and there, also a deeper cut there that will need watching, but that is all. His heavy jacket took a majority of the damage.”

The doctor pointed to where a large bandage was taped to the crux of Lance’s neck and shoulder. His back was littered with standard band aids and one wrapped around the shell of his ear.

“His head was bleeding,” Hunk recalled.

“A small cut on the temple. Bleeds much, harms little.” The doctor replied, “Now if I may?”

“Of course, Rax,” Allura said, “You must be anxious to get back to Shay. Thank you for your assistance.”

Rax nodded and hurried out of the room. Pidge and Hunk sagged with relief.

“This incident was… unexpected. And… quite terrifying,” Allura said, “But If you would, I’d like you to stay and continue, er, begin investigating.”

“I don’t like it,” Hunk said, “But it’s up to Lance. There’s no way he’ll leave after such an intense start.”

Pidge nodded before adding firmly, “I would like to stay.”

“Then let’s get set up!” Shiro said, “That way when Lance wakes up we can jump right in!”

“He’ll love that,” Hunk sighed morosely, “That reckless idiot.”

After all the excitement, set up with the ease of a long routine. Allura and Coran both had duties to attend and took their leave after posting a guard to watch over Lance. Shiro stepped up in Lance’s absence as the order giver and was grateful when the GUPRS followed his lead. Keith ran cameras to their determined locations and positioned them while Hunk trailed him with miles and miles of power chords. Pidge was running around like a madman with an armful of mics and sensors and gadgets far more complicated than Shiro’s basic meters. Shiro followed them around logging where each piece of equipment was placed.

Though they were only setting up wide shots in important areas (more specific camera placement would be decided upon reviewing witness testimonies for activity hot spots) the feat ate up quite a bit time. By the time they had finished the setting sun was flooding the windows with orange light and the smell of cooking sausages creeping through the halls. Keith and Hunk bemoaned their sore muscles with Keith nodded along. Shiro passed out cold water bottles to his exhausted investigators and encouraged them to take a break.

“Those cameras might seem light,” Keith was telling a sympathetic Pidge, “But carrying eight of them through a half mile of winding hallways and upstairs? Yikes.”

“I feel you man,” Hunk chimed in, “Those cables had to weigh, like, a million pounds! Plus, I think they were actively trying to trip me.”

“I accidently dropped an infrared camera I was fixing to the wall.” Pidge said rubbing at a bruising lump on his forehead, “And it fell on me.”

They all turned to Shiro.

“Uh, my hand cramped while writing… the logs…” he trailed off feeling more than a little awkward in the ensuing silence.

Shiro jolted at the sudden snort of laughter. Pidge and Hunk both turned to Keith and watched as he broke down into a fit of giggles.

“What the fuck, Shiro?” Keith wheezed, tears leaking from his eyes.

Hunk and Pidge joined in after that and Shiro couldn’t help grinning abashedly. He tried to remember the last time he saw Keith so happy, but came up blank. In the year since he had met Keith and formed the VPI, Keith had been… not cold, but serious. The few smiles Shiro had coaxed out of the kid had been soft and fleeting, nothing like the vibrant grin he had now. He was almost certain that he hadn’t ever heard him laugh if the bitter chuckles weren’t counted.

Shiro wasn’t sure how these two had gotten Keith to open up so quickly in their presence, but he was truly grateful they had met. He could only hope that Lance would be able to let go of his resentment and befriend Keith as well.

“Excuse me? Investigators?”

The laughter died down as they turned to the timid voice in the doorway. There was a tall maid with soft eyes and a neck brace.

“Hey there,” Hunk called out to her, “Don’t be shy, we don’t bite!”

The maid nodded and curtsied.

“My name is Shay! I’m here to lead you down to the dining hall.”

“Well you sure know a way to a man’s heart, huh?” Hunk laughed, “I’m starving. Lead the way!”

Pidge shook his head at the obvious way Hunk was flirting and trailed out after them. Keith and Shiro followed along.

“So, Shay, do you know of any good places around here to investigate?” Hunk asked lightly as they walked.

Shay looked uncomfortable, running a hand along her brace before turning to Hunk with fire in her eyes.

“I do.” She said solemnly, “Do you think you can really rid my home of these… spirits?

Hunk blinked at the sudden change in mood, but nodded.

“I hope to. I can’t promise anything, but…” Hunk looked back at Pidge, whom nodded in encouragement. “Want to know a secret?”

Keith looked curiously at Hunk. Shay agreed.

“Our president, Lance? He’s got a… well, we call it a talent. He is particularly good at sending ghosts to the other side. In all our cases, if there was really a spirit, Lance has always gotten rid of it—every time.”

Shiro was impressed. Keith looked unbelieving, but Shiro could hear the sincerity in Hunk’s voice and apparently so did Shay.

“Then I thank you for coming,” She said lightly placing her hand on Hunk’s.

Hunk flushed while Pidge and Keith chorused “oooohhhhh!” in the background. Shay blushed as well, pointing to an archway leading into a crowded room.

“There is the dining hall. I must go now!”

She ran off before Hunk could as much as call after her.

“That could have gone better.” He sighed.

Shiro ruffled his hair. How could Hunk not see the way his words had instilled hope in her?

“Nah, you totally won her over, champ.”

Hunk flushed more swatting Shiro’s hand away.

“Thanks, Dad.” He muttered sarcastically.

“Come on, let’s go in.” He replied, herding them into the room.

‘Dinner’ was more of a feast than anything. The room was lined was long tables crowded with a mix of about a hundred people. There seemed to be no specific seating chart, and the staff and nobles walked and talked among each other like old friends. There was a buffet style table pressed up against one wall, filled with breads and fruits and a wide assortment of meats and cheeses.

“Wow,” Pidge said, “That’s some dinner.”

“Think it’s like this every night?” Hunk asked hopefully.

After grabbing plates of food and settling into a table between some chatting maids and Allura and Coran whom had waved them over, a comfortable silence over them while they eat. Allura and Coran were talking about how to organize interviews occasionally calling on them for input.

“Oh!” Pidge spoke up, “Should we call Abuelita?”

“Abuelita? Who’s that?” Shiro asked.

Hunk was grinning now, already pulling out his phone.

“Hell yeah! That’ll teach him to worry us!” Hunk cried searching his contacts.

“Abuelita is Lance’s grandma! We always tattle on him to pay him back for making us deal with his ridiculous personality and all that comes with it!” Pidge explained.

“Tattle on him?” Keith asked looking hopelessly lost, “For getting hurt?”

“We have a clause in the GUPRS rules about Lance and injuries of any sort,” Hunk said, “If he’s okay, we call Abuelita to give her the gossip! If he’s not, we call Abuelita so she can whip him into shape again.”

“Didn’t Lance say not to call her?” Shiro recalled, “Like, right before passing out?”

“Psshaw! He know the rules!” Hunk dismissed, “Losing consciousness means Abuelita will know.”

Once again, Keith and Shiro were mystified by this group of college students.

“It’s on speaker!” Hunk told Pidge.

After a few rings the call was answered by what sounded like and elderly Latina woman.

“ _Hunk? Flaco, aren’t you in Transylvania?_ ”

“Transylvania?” Keith mouthed at Shiro, whom in turn shrugged.

“Yup! We just got the castle, like, four hours ago.”

“ _Oh dear, what did that foolhardy child get himself into already? He hasn’t been bitten by a bat, has he? Odio los murciélagos_!”

“Oh, Abuelita you will not believe this!” Hunk said conspiratorially.

“You’re really enjoying this,” Keith commented with amusement.

The woman chuckled and asked Hunk to continue.

“We had hardly even gotten into to HQ when Lance was looking out the window, like he was in a trance, and a man touched him and he turned around and shoved him out of the way just before the window behind him exploded!”

“ _That’s my boy, such a hero!” Abuelita praised, with a slight mocking tone, “And let guess, he forgot to dodge himself?”_

“You know it!” Pidge cried.

“ _Ahh, Chiquito! You are there as well?”_

“Mmmhmm!”

“ _Well, if you say he was in a trance he must be ‘napping’ now, no?_ ”

Keith and Shiro traded another look.

“Yeah, he’s still under even though the doctor said he was okay.”

“ _Then he will be fine. Mijo has a talent, and that talent will see him through. I will pray for him even so._ ”

“Thank you, Abuelita.” Hunk said.

“ _No, no, thank you!_ ” Abuelita said, “ _You know he never tells me when these things happen. Idioto has it in his head that I worry too much_.”

“He doesn’t want to scare you.”

“ _Ha! As if I haven’t been speaking to the dead for far longer!_ ” She snorted while a baby started wailing in the background, “ _Ahh—that’s my little Mia crying. I will speak to you soon, mis hijos!_ ”

“Bye!” Hunk and Pidge called as the call ended.

“She sounds… nice?” Shiro said.

“Abuelita is the most badass woman… no, the most badass person I have ever met.” Pidge claimed. “She once hit Lance with la chancla from clear across a football field. Dead on. Saw it with my own two eyes. I don’t even know how she heard him call Professor Iverson fat from that far.”

“I watched her pull out baby pictures to show the girl Lance was hitting on once. They laughed together about his little baby junk.” Hunk put in, “Fucking savage.”

“I’m confused.” Keith told them.

“That’s okay, buddy.” Hunk told him, ruffling his hair like Shiro had done to him earlier.

“Thanks, Dad.” Keith mimicked.

The group erupted into laughter again.

 

 

Lance jolted awake, groaning as pain lanced through his shoulder. He carefully twisted himself around to sit upright in bed, looking around the lantern-lit room. It was grand and completely unfamiliar. What exactly had happened? He thought back. The window! He could remember the fear and pain. Talking to Hunk, but before that? Blurriness. And after? Nothing. He must have been moved here. It was night out now so he must have been out for hours. So where was everyone?

He decided to get up, leaning heavily against the bedside table. Now what?

The door flew open and four laughing men walked into the room. Lance was confused. Why were they so friendly with each other all of a sudden? He felt like he had missed something. Like he was on the outside looking in. He immeadiately pushed the thought down as stupid, but it lingered in the back of his mind.

“Lance!” Shiro said once he spotted him, “Lay back down!”

“What? Why??” Lance asked.

“If you need to lean on something to stand then you shouldn’t be standing.” Shiro scolded rushing over to push Lance back down. “Glad to see your up, though.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Lance snarked.

Lance was baffled when laughter rippled through the room.

“It wasn’t that funny?” Lance commented.

“Inside joke.” Keith said, looking at Hunk.

Lance felt a stab of jealousy. That was _his_ friend, dammit. He turned to Pidge only to find him giggling along with them.

“Shut up, Kogane, no one asked you.” Lance spat at him.

“You literally just did.” Keith retorted, taken aback.

“Chill, bro!” Hunk told Lance.

“Yeah, calm down.” Pidge said.

Lance stared at them in disbelief for a moment before he looked away.

“Whatever, I’m tired.” He muttered. “Is this my room?”

“I guess it can be?” Shiro said, “I wanted to check on your wound, though.”

“Don’t bother, I just want to sleep.” Lance dismissed him.

Pidge and Hunk shrugged and said their goodnights leaving with Keith in tow. Shiro hung back and eyed Lance suspiciously.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes!” Lance groaned.

“Okay,” Shiro said placating, “Okay, I’ll leave I was just worried.”

He left, shutting the door softly behind him. Great, now Lance felt worse. It was dumb, he knew, but since they meet in high school he had been in thick as thieves with Hunk and Pidge. They hadn’t ever really gotten too close with others. Especially not Keith Kogane. What it was about him that sent Lance’s inferiority complex spiraling out of control, but watching him joking with _his_ buddies. He hadn’t meant to get pissy, though. He would have to apologize later.

Lance threw himself down onto the bed and ignored his back’s protests.

He could only hope tomorrow would be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made a playlist for this story if you're interested: http://8tracks.com/honeytongued/s-p-i-r-i-t-s-i-n-m-y-h-e-a-d/  
> This fic has no beta so errors are my own.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning had dawned bright and clear, and despite himself, Lance felt refreshed. He had overslept a tad and was almost late to the scheduled interviews. As he was hurrying after the butler leading him down to the hall, he was waylaid by Hunk and Pidge.

“Lance!” Hunk called from an adjourning hallway, followed by Pidge and a pretty maid in a neck brace. Pidge waved as the trio jogged to catch up with them.

“Hey!” Lance greeted back, unsure of where they stood after the previous night’s spat.

Luckily, Pidge and Hunk were far more forgiving than he, as they rushed up and enveloped him in a tight embrace that had his back and shoulder twinging. Despite the pain, he squeezed back. He loved these two dearly and he wouldn’t miss out on any form of physical affection. There was a reason that Ricky had called him “Cuddlebug” up until… Lance stopped that thought from going any farther.

“Whoa now!” Lance laughed, “I know I am the most lovable thing since baby bunnies, but I wasn’t expecting this!

The two traded a glance.

“We were helping clean up HQ this morning,” Pidge explained.

“There was shards of glass lodged three inches into the wall, Lance.” Hunk added.

Lance swallowed nervously, seeing what they were getting at. If he hadn’t turned and stepped away to shove Coran, hadn’t been wearing his thick canvas coat… It could have been bad. Real bad.

“I’m fine.” He told them sincerely.

“We can’t lose you.” Pidge told him, Hunk nodding along seriously.

“I promise I’ll be more careful.” Lance said, “I’ll let you know the second I see anything.”

“You saw some one? At the broken window?” The maid asked suddenly.

Lance had forgotten she was here. She had a bizarre mix of awe and stern disbelief on her face, an expression that Lance was all too familiar with when it came to these cases. Skeptics who have seen amazing things are still skeptics. They can watch you banish their own personal nightmares and still question if they were ever real in the first place. More often than not, they blamed him. For what, he couldn’t be sure.

All Lance knew was that he helped people who had a very specific kind of problem and that they weren’t always that grateful. He was even more wary of this maid because he hadn’t even interacted with her as far as he knew. Why was she looking at him like she _knew_?

“I’m sure I did. I can’t really remember what it was. But I must have seen something.” Lance said vaguely.

“And while you were napping?” Pidge asked.

Lance sent him a strange look. It wasn’t expressly forbidden to bring that up around others, but it definitely wasn’t the stuff to talk about freely either.

“I don’t know, she was shy.” Lance recalled, “She was… falling petals and autumn leaves and _duende_ , ya’know, like she was shooting stars.”

Lance saw how confused the maid was and shrugged away his embarrassment. This was always the case with those who heard him talk about the dreams. He knows he is aware in them, but when he wakes he is only left with vague impressions of those he encounters. Little details and long lists of overly poetic analogies. He hated how pretentious it sounded. He wished he could remember details and tell them “I saw a blonde girl named Lisa and she was dead.” But that wasn’t the way it worked. Even Abuelita described her dreams in prose. She had published a book of poetry after nearly five decades of scribbling down descriptions of the dead she saw in her sleep.

“I see.” Hunk said.

Lance was forever grateful to Hunk for believing him. He was the first friend to really try to understand his gift. Pidge still had issues with it, but accepted it as something that was tangible and not made up. He often made attempts of studying Lance’s ability but that lead more towards irritation than to any sort of breakthrough.

“Anyway, let’s get going.” Lance said, starting off down the hallway, “Don’t wanna keep the Countess waiting.”

The others trudged after him and Lance felt a little silly about thinking he might be losing them. He was there leader. They had followed him through hell and back. He should know they would never leave him.

_But what if they do?_

Lance shook that thought off and put on a brave face as they reached the hall and made their way inside.

He was surprised by the number of staff waiting for them in the dining hall. Ten different witnesses. And they hadn’t even had to search around and beg for stories from reluctant civilian or disgruntled historians. It was the most wonderful thing Lance had ever seen. He jogged over to join the table where everyone was waiting, ignored Keith’s offer of the chair next to his and sat in between Shiro and Coran, nodding to them in greeting.

“So all the witnesses are here?” Shiro asked once everyone had been seated and the greetings had quieted down.

“All the witnesses with documented evidence.” Coran clarified.

His statement was met with outcries of disbelief. Documented evidence was like gold in this business. More often than not, flimsy personal accounts and hearsay was the firmest clues they had.

“Documented how? Written records?” Shiro asked.

Coran set a laptop in front of them.

“With video.” Coran said, “After the activity had gotten so bad, we gave the staff—uh head cameras? Is that what they’re called?”

“You gave your maids Go-Pros?” Hunk laughed, “How expensive was that?”

“Well we only rented them for a week.”

“So, ten recorded incidence happened in a week?” Keith whistled, “That is pretty crazy.”

“How are we gonna do this?” Pidge asked gesturing his hand at the interviewees.

“Let’s have them come up chronologically, you know by first incidence then the next, have them recount their experience. We’ll take notes.” Lance suggested. “Then we can watch the video with them have them explain what’s happening. Then we go to the next.”

“Great idea,” Shiro said, “Let’s start.”

Coran had the staff introduce organize themselves and the first approached the table. It was an elderly butler that spoke only Romanian. With Coran as the translator, they were told how he was preparing a room for Allura to meet company in when a dish cabinet had tipped over from clear across the room and the room had filled with a retched stench.

“What did it smell like?” Lance asked.

Coran consulted the man and turned back to Lance.

“Like rotting meat, he says.”

Shiro jotted several notes down. Rotting meat, bad eggs, sulfur… they all meant one thing, one very bad thing. Lance had done this before though. He could do it again.

_But what if you can’t? What if you’re too weak to save them this time?_

Lance shook his head a bit, trying to rid himself of the thought.

Next they watched shaky footage of the event. At first the screen was focused on the man’s hands as they were setting out silverware on a table. There was a great crash and the video focused on some forks that had lodged themselves into the wall before whipping around to see the wreckage of wood and glass and porcelain. The man was gagging in the video before yelling something over and over before the door to the room burst open and some other people rushed in to check on the noise.

“What was he yelling?” Pidge asked.

“He was calling on the spirit of Count Alfor, Allura’s late father. There is a legend here that the ghosts of past rulers stay to watch over and protect the household.” Coran explained.

“I see. So it’s common?”

“In a way, though certainly more so for the older generations.”

“Great,” Hunk muttered, “That’s like opening a metaphorical door and inviting in the whole damn spiritual neighborhood.”

Keith snorted.

Shiro called on the next witness. And the next. The stories were varied and undeniably recorded. Shadow figures, voices, flying objects and even knocking on walls that was clearly responding to questions. Each incident was recorded pristinely on video. This kind of evidence was unreal. Lance would have suspected it to be manufactured, except for the undeniable fear on the staff’s faces. After the interviewee was dismissed, Coran showed them one last video. It was one they had already seen,

The possessed maid chanting their address.

“Wait a second… is that Shay?” Hunk demanded.

Lance turned back to the video. The maid’s hair was longer, and her face was twisted into a cruel smirk that Lance couldn’t imagine the gentle maid making, but it was definitely her.

“Yes,” Coran answered, “She declined an interview, though. After Allura and I found out that address belong to a paranormal research team, we decided that we had to have you here.”

“I can understand,” said Hunk, “It must have been awful. I can’t imagine she’d want to relive it.”

“But her recount of it could be valuable information.” Keith said, “Maybe you should ask her as a favor.”

“What? Why would that work?” Lance asked.

“Hunk is sweet on Shay.” Shiro answered.

Hunk spluttered but didn’t deny it.

“Cute.” Lance commented.

“So, now that the interviews are over, we can go over the list of reported incidences that had no evidence, then decide a plan for locations tonight?” Shiro said. They did just that.

They had the hot spot marked and decided the appropriate equipment to match the activity reported there. When Shiro had brought up the issue of their odd number of investigator (teams of two would leave someone alone and that was too dangerous but only having two groups left too much castle uninvestigated) things had worked out unexpectedly.

“That’s okay,” Lance had said, “I meet a guy here that said he’d show me around the underground levels. He was kinda shy though, so it’s best I go with him. That way we have six people and three groups.”

Keith looked a bit disappointed at that. Shiro had opened his mouth to ask just when Lance had time to meet anyone, having had only woken up late last night and spent the entire day with them, but was distracted when Hunk managed to accidently knock over an entire table of priceless equipment.

“I could have sworn I wasn’t gonna bump it!” Hunk cried as they all rushed over to check on everything.

Nothing was damaged but by the time it was sorted, Shiro’s mind was occupied by other things.

 

 

The first three days of their investigation were utter, entire failures. Not a single EVP, no orbs or shadows or spikes on the EMFs. Not even a mysterious creak as the castle settled. The teams were steadily becoming more and more agitated, and the staff seemed even jumpy than usual because of the sheer lack of activity. They had tried pairing off in different groups, except for Lance whom was firm in his resolve to investigate solely with his friend.

In light of the lack of activity, they were going through their own footage to scan for anything, when normally they would trade off so they could edit and catch up on each other’s findings at the same time. There was no findings, so they edited their own.

 

“Lance is acting weird.” Pidge told Keith over dinner one day.

Pidge pointed out where Lance was walking out of the room with a plate of food. It had been this way since the first night he had joined them at dinner. He had alternated between snapping at Keith and being sulkily silent as Keith and Shiro chatted amicably with Pidge and Hunk. They had tried to bring him into the conversation but he rebuffed them every time.

Ever since he had been eating alone.

“You need to bond as a team. He is still thinking in terms of ‘Garrison University Paranormal Research Society’ and ‘Voltron Paranormal Investigators’ when he needs to settle into ‘Voltron Paranormal Research Society.’” Allura told them.

“Somehow I don’t think our sponsor, Garrison University, will like the name change,” Pidge joked.

“Plus, Lance is the only one not sharing a room with a member of the team. Nor investigating with one. This castle has a way of making people feel isolated, and right now he is only seeing his team at headquarters maybe for two hours a day.” Allura added, ignoring Pidge’s quip.

“So he’s lonely and misses us?” Hunk pondered.

“Personally, I think we need to get him and Keith to work out their issues.” Pidge suggested.

“He’s the one who has issues. I like him just fine.” Keith said.

“That settles it!” Shiro claimed, “Keith and Lance will have a one on one chat tonight before we begin our investigations!”

Keith nodded along, but pulled Shiro aside as soon as they left the dining hall.

“Do you really think that this is a good idea?” he asked.

“Can you keep your hands to yourself for tonight?” Shiro replied.

“Can you?” Keith shot back fondly.

“So you noticed?”

“Noticed how you were watching his ass while he was fixing the chords under your desk the other day? Oh yeah.”

Shiro scratched the back of his head chuckling.

“Jealous?”

“No,” Keith said sincerely, “Not if I’m invited.”

“Always.” Shiro told him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

 

 

 

“Why are you two in my room?” Lance asked looking sourly at the two men sitting on the bed.

Keith smiled at Lance, hoping to come across as friendly. Shiro waved him over to the bed.

“Join us.”

“Not gonna lie,” Lance snarked at he kicked off his shoes and settled in the spot Shiro was patting between them, “This is the first time two men invited me to bed at once.”

“You get invited into bed by men a lot?” Keith asked sharply.

Shiro could hear the mixed hope and jealousy in his tone, but Lance must not have because he stiffened.

“If you have a prob—“

“I don’t!” Keith assured him quickly, “I just wondered.”

“We actually came to change your bandages,” Shiro claimed, “Keith has medical training.”

“Most of them are just band aids,” Lance told them suspiciously, “But, sure. Thanks, I guess.”

“Take your shirt off and turn towards Shiro.” Keith instructed.

Lance obliged, and Shiro eagerly took in the lean muscle and long planes of Lance’s chest. He found the fuzzy trail of hair leading from just under his navel to the band of his incredibly tight skinny jeans absolutely adorable and— _good Lord_ , Shiro thought, _maybe the bed wasn’t the best place to do this_. Keith grabbed his med kit from the ground and arched a mischievous eyebrow at Shiro from over Lance’s shoulder.

“So, Lance, I heard you knew Keith in college?” Shiro asked, trying to get to conversation going.

Keith grimaced at the bad choice in topics and started to gently pry to adhesive band aids from Lance’s skin.

“Kinda.” Lance grunted, “Weren’t really friends.”

“Oh.” Shiro said, “Why?”

“Well, for one he refused to let me in to the GUPRS for no apparent reason. Which was, ya’know the entire reason I was at Garr U in the first place.”

That was news to Keith.

“Keith, you can pull them a little harder, I won’t break.” Lance said lightly.

“Sorry,” Keith said, stroking a red patch of skin on Lance’s back where the band aid had caught on some hair, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Keith and Shiro both watched Lance’s face tint pink in fascination.

 _He’s lying, Lance_.

Lance’s brow furrowed. He was having these thoughts more and more often.

 _He wants you to suffer. He finds you annoying like a fly he wants to swat_.

Lance pushed the thoughts back. He wasn’t annoying. Keith liked him well enough.

“So you went to Garrison just to join the GUPRS? That’s some impressing dedication.” Shiro asked.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve always been sensitive,” Lance told him, “My family encouraged me to pursue it if I wanted.”

“You’re sensitive?” Keith asked in surprise, “That wasn’t on your club application.”

“I thought you didn’t remember me?” Lance asked slyly.

Keith blushed.

“In the interest of being honest,” Keith confessed, “I do. I had a slight crush on you.”

“Slight? Had?” Lance asked, perplexed.

He hadn’t expected that, having just been teasing Keith. Suddenly all the meanness from freshman year made sense. He was pulling my pigtails, Lance thought.

_He’s lying, Lance. He is mocking you._

Was he? He was too confused to separate those thoughts from his own.

“Don’t get cocky, okay?” Keith told him.

“Look, Lance! He’s blushing!” Shiro pointed out, laughing as Keith flushed harder.

“So why did you turn me down?” Lance asked, before adding quickly, “For the GUPRS, that is.”

“I’m going to put on some antiseptic now,” Keith told him. “And it was for your safety.”

Lance hissed a bit as Keith applied the stinging chemical across his back in one quick swipe.

“My safety?”

“Keith told me a little about his time at the GUPRS. It wasn’t run nearly as well as you are running it.”

“I figured from the lack of records from that time period and all the bogus expense reports.” Lance agreed, “What was all that money really going to if not research?”

“Getting drunk around an ouija board, mostly.” Keith said bitterly.

“What the fuck?!”

“I know. They wouldn’t listen when I told them to stop, so I had to be there to protect the lowerclassmen from the higher ups that didn’t believe in how dangerous their hazing was. I ended that shitstorm as soon as possible.”

Lance seemed to considering his words for a moment. Shiro could tell this was a sore spot.

“I get it, but would it have killed you to have talked to me instead of assuming I was an idiot?”

“I should have, you’re right. I just thought I was justified at the time… And up until I meet you all.”

“So Pidge and Hunk are what changed your mind?” Lance asked in an odd tone.

“Yeah, that and—“

“So what exactly did they do that convinced you that I couldn’t?” Lance demanded, jumping off the bed and pacing to the desk.

_You’re not good enough._

“What? That’s not what I was saying,” Keith refuted, also standing.

“What did I do to convince you I was worthless right off the bat?!”

 _You never were_.

“Lance, what are you saying?!” Keith demanded, starting to lose his patience.

“My team! Is that what you want?!” Lance accused, jabbing a finger into Keith’s chest.

_YOU WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH._

“What the actual fuck, Lance? Are you insane?!”

Shiro stood, ready to intervene if need be.

“You turned me down eight times, Keith! But you love Hunk and Pidge the second you meet them!” Lance yelled at him.

“I already explained that! Fuck, just let it go!” Keith yelled right back.

“Yeah, well maybe I would let it go if you weren’t doing it _again_!”

Lance was really worked up now. With his shirt off, Shiro could see how tense he was, the way he trembled in anger and jerked away as Keith moved closer.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Keith snapped at him, “No one does! Hunk, Pidge… They are just as lost as I am about why you’re acting like this!”

Lance shrunk back at the mention of his team. His mouth hung open.

“You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” He asked quietly, “With my friends?”

_YOU WILL LOSE EVERYTHING._

The raw venerability in his voice cut Shiro deep. What could have possibly hurt Lance so badly to make him think this way? Make him think that they were trying to cut him off from his friends?

“It’s not like that, Lance!” Keith was getting angrier now, “Why are you like this? Why do you think everything is about you?”

“Because this is! You just said that it was! If it wasn’t then why aren’t you smiling at _me_? Laughing with _me_?” Lance yelled back, voice thick, “Because you only want them! And that’s what I’m scared of! You’re stealing them away from me!”

“Shut up! Oh God, you’re such a moron!” Keith growled, pushing Lance back against the wall and ignoring the way it caused him to hiss in pain, “I don’t want to be your friend Lance! Not like I want Hunk and Pidge!”

There was a moment of eerie silence as Lance let that sink in, too shocked to reply. God, he hadn’t thought Keith would confirm it like that. His head was filled with a cacophony of voices mocking him now. Over Keith’s shoulder, he saw Shiro set closer to them, looking just as torn apart as he was. Lance didn’t want his pity, though. In the end, Shiro would always choose Keith over him. He felt tears burn at his eyes and promptly turned away from Keith’s face—close, he was far too close.

“Move,” with Lance’s voice, the tears overflowed. He felt them fall hotly down his cheeks and trace his jaw. He was trembling now. Keith reached out for his face and Lance flinched back violently. Keith wasn’t deterred, taking Lance’s face in his firm grip and forcing him to face him.

“No. You aren’t leaving until we work this out.” Keith told him.

“There’s nothing more to say,” Lance cried, “Let me go!”

Keith wiped away a tear with the rough pad of his thumb, noting the way Lance was full on shaking now from his little sobs.

“Stop crying,” Keith ordered him, “Just breathe.”

Lance gave up on replying, letting himself break down. His breaths came in quick gasps and he hardly noticed when Shiro had joined them until he rubbed a comforting hand down his arm.

“It’s okay, Lance,” Shiro said, “It’s all okay.”

“No!” he wailed, struggling against Keith’s hold again, “It won’t be!!”

“Fuck, Lance!” Keith hissed, “Just listen!”

“I can’t! I can’t lose them!” Lance sobbed, pushing against Keith’s chest, “Don’t take them from me!”

“I’m not, just fucking listen!”

“Keith, please, yelling won’t help,” Shiro said.

Keith noticed the way Lance leaned in to Shiro’s touches. He wanted Lance to accept him like that too, but this wasn’t working. He had accidently pushed Lance into these hysterics, but that wasn’t what he had wanted. The other man just had a way of pushing him to the edge until he lashed back. He hadn’t meant to word it like that, or imply that wanted to take Lance’s friends from him—and God, wasn’t that a horrifying implication that Lance thought he could.

Now, though, Keith was at a loss of how to get through to Lance. He couldn’t let Lance run away and stew in the miscommunications but Lance was too upset to hear him out. There’s no way Keith could ask for permission the way he normally would. Thanks to Shiro’s shushing, Lance was calming down slightly, but Keith needed to make his intentions clear to Lance.

“Lance,” Keith said, drawing his attention, “I’m sorry for this.”

Lance was blinking owlishly at him. Keith went for it. He leaned up and brushed his lips against Lance’s, just for a moment before pulling back. Suddenly, the voices in Lance’s mind went quite. Then Keith heard Shiro’s breath hitch and saw the pretty tint of pink on Lance’s teary face and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to pull him back down for another one. Keith tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of Lance’s neck and angled the taller boy down. Lance was frozen for a moment before hesitantly knotting his fingers in Keith’s jacket and allowing Keith to kiss into his mouth. His back hit the wall again as Keith pinned his body with his own.

Shiro groaned as he saw the two boys’ tongues meet between them. He hadn’t expected Keith to make a move so soon, but he was glad Lance seemed to be accepting it so well, despite the situation. He felt a thrill go through him as he watched Keith drag helpless little keening sounds from the other. Shiro knew how talented Keith was with his tongue. When Keith pulled back again to leave a biting kiss just under his jaw, Lance clutched at one of Shiro’s hands while Keith’s hands stroked over Lance’s bare chest.

 _Fuck_ , Shiro thought, _the wounds._

 _Fuck_ , Shiro thought again, _this is moving too fast._

Knowing he had to stop Keith from going too far but unable to resist getting in on the action, Shiro pulled Lance’s face to his to leave a searing kiss. As he pulled back, Lance gave a little whine and leaned after him, chasing Shiro’s lips. The thought that Lance was mourning the loss of his kiss nearly killed Shiro’s resolve to defuse this situation before it got any worse.

“Good boy, Lance.” Keith praised him, now finished leaving a deep red love bite under his jaw.

The two watched has the words visibly excited the man they had pinned to the wall, his breath hitching and eyes dilating. His hips ground against Keith’s. Keith smirked and Shiro shifted as his pants were quickly become a bit too restricting.

“Lance, you’ve doing very good,” Shiro couldn’t help but adding, “But we don’t want to take advantage of your emotional state, okay?”

Keith mumbled unhappily, but obliged by pulling away from Lance. With his flushed skin and bright eyes and tear-tracked face, Lance looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was mussed from Keith’s fingers and he was shaking still.

Lance was having a hard time keeping up with his own emotions. His brain was hardly through trying to process his freak out, and not even nearly up to date on his newfound arousal.

“I—I don’t,” Lance stuttered, “Yeah, we should, um, yeah?”

“Eloquent,” Keith teased, causing Lance to sputter unhappily.

“Keith,” Shiro chided before turning back to Lance, “We should all take some time to calm down and think this through. This—this thing between us, Lance, me and Keith are serious about it. We don’t just want to fool around with you or we would have approached you separately.”

“Wait,” Lance asked, “So you two are, like, _together_?”

Keith and Shiro traded amused glances.

“Kinda. We have an open relationship in a way. We rarely indulge in it, though; we’re usually too busy with cases.”

“Oh, I see.” Lance said, sounding like he didn’t.

“We’ll talk about this more tomorrow.” Shiro said, “We need to get ready for the investigation. Lance, do you think your partner can help you keep an eye on that wound?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Count on it.” Keith said, eyeing him up like a hungry predator might look at prey that was limping away.

Something told Lance that talking wasn’t the only thing that would be happening. Lance trembled in excitement.

Shiro and Keith walked out the door, leaving Lance alone with his emotional whiplash.

 

 

“Hey, Kadnes!” Lance called, jogging up to an empty spot in the hallway.

“Huh?” Lance asked, “Yeah, I brought the P-SB7 Spirit Box instead of the Ovilus this time. Do you think it will work?”

Silence answered him. Lance chuckled.

“Well, okay! You don’t have to be so grumpy.”

Lance turned on his camera and pointed it at a vacant wall.

“This is Lance and Kadnes and today we are investigating solo in the dungeons in total darkness again, so I have the night vision camera and the spirit box. We are hoping to catch some voices tonight. What were the dungeons used for, man?”

Nothing.

“Yikes, that pretty gruesome. Well, we are headed down now. Mind filling us in on some of the history on the way down?”

Lance ambled down the hallway away from the lights of the main way, chattering away to himself and the camera and the shadows. Soon, darkness enveloped him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr is @hopeforusall if you wanna come talk to me about this fic or like anything at all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to everyone whom reviewed, specifically the lovely Warfang and her novel-length reviews. Without them to spur me on, writer's block would have set me back for quite a while. Thanks for all the support!

_Witch Trap was warm this time, uncomfortably so. The humidity in the air was suffocating and the fresh air had an undertone of foulness, like there was a dead something left just yonder in the bushes. If made Lance uncomfortable and edgy. Tonight there was no moon, the Cottonwood’s branches were barren and the tall grass was tawny and dry._

_Lance made his way to the tree, sweat already dripping and sticking his shirt to his back._

_“Hello? Duende?” He called, “Are you still here?”_

_There was no response as Lance arrived at the tree. He reached out to touch it, but stopped when his instincts started screaming warnings at him. Suddenly, he had chills despite the heat and his stomach twisted in fear._

_“_ Poison _!”_

_Duende’s low voice was just behind him, close enough to startle him. But he didn’t turn. He knew better than to look at her._

_“The tree? Its poison?”_

_He felt a rush of cold as hazy fingers ran along his neck to the crux of his neck. The chilliness felt good against the exposed wound that resided there. Lance hadn’t realized it had been aching until the spirit had begun to soothe its throb._

_“_ Here… poison _.” She whispered into his ear._

_“Thank you.” Lance told her, “That doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”_

_The spirit’s hands move from his neck down hid back and wrap around Lance’s waist. She tightens her hold and buries her face in between his shoulder blades. The fear abetted. The danger he was sensing; it wasn’t her. Lance was uncomfortable with the embrace, but welcomed the chilly respite from the heat and rush of security it brought._

_“Duende, I have a question I need you to answer, okay?” Lance asked, setting his hand on top of hers._

_He felt her nod against his back._

_“Are you protecting me from something?”_

_“_ Mine. _”_

_Lance wasn’t comfortable with that answer either._

_“What is killing this place? I want to help you.”_

_“…_ Lance! ... Mine _!” She hissed._

_“Okay,” he placated, “I’m sorry.”_

_“_ Stay. _” She told him._

_“I will.” Lance told her. “For as long as you need. That’s what I do best.”_

“Keith,” Shiro said, “I don’t think he’s coming. At least not this morning.”

Keith paused in his agitated pacing to look up at his partner. The sun was just peaking over the trees, spilling golden light into their window. He sighed and moved to draw the heavy curtains shut. It had been a long, long night of no activity once again. Keith had used the idea of finally getting to talk Lance on good terms as a coping method for the utter frustration and boredom of the night.

“Pidge and Hunk didn’t get any evidence last night either?” Keith asked, directing the conversation away from the tall medium.

“No,” Shiro replied, “When I dropped off the equipment at HQ, they said it had been dead all night.”

Keith snorted.

“Dead is what we want, right? We’re just getting the wrong kind.”

Shiro was pulling on a pair of sweat, preparing to get some sleep. He obviously doubted Lance would show.

“Was Lance’s camera there? HQ?” Keith asked, slumping down backwards into a desk chair.

Shiro gave him a pointed look.

“Nope. Pidge said Lance has been staying out investigating longer. He’s probably still in the underground levels somewhere.”

“Can’t we go find him, then?” Keith grumbled.

Shiro was quite for a long second, then ambled over to crouch in front of Keith. He ran a hand through Keith’s ruffled hair trying to smooth it down.

“What this really about?” Shiro asked, bumping their foreheads together, “It’s not like you to be this impatient. We didn’t give him a time, so he’ll probably find us after we all get some sleep.”

That was it, wasn’t it? Keith had a temper on him; he was rash and reckless. But impatient? On occasion, but not like this. There was an itch just under his skin that was urging him toward Lance. It wasn’t anything Keith could put a name on, but he knew that even just seeing Lance from afar would ease it.

“I…I don’t know,” Keith confessed, “But I just need to see him.

“Then sleep. When we wake up, we’ll go to Lance.” Shiro told.

“Alright.” Keith assented.

Something in the back of his mind told him that it wasn’t though. Something was _wrong_.

 

 

_“Duende,” Lance murmured from his spot laying in the grass, “None of these are real constellations.”_

_Lance was comfortable, though the world around him seemed to be growing hotter. The sweet aching cold of the spirit’s fingers intertwined with his own, numbing the pain throbbing through him… It was getting harder and harder to think clearly. How long had they been stargazing? How long had he been_ napping _? After a brief moment of curiosity, Lance dismissed the thoughts as unimportant._

 _“_ Not…stars… _”_

_“Ah. What are they?”_

_Duende was silent again. Lance noticed that she was never forthcoming with information._

_“They look like souls in the distance.” Lance told her, “Sometimes I can see the spirits I will help in the future up there. I’ve never seen more than one at a time though… They must be stars.”_

_“…_ Me _?”_

_“Yeah, I saw you coming. You were so bright. That’s how you know how strong they are, ya’know? You were blinding up there like a midday sun.”_

_The only reply was a hot wind scorching its way through the dead grass._

_“Wanna know something cool?”_

_Duende’s fingers tightened around his._

_“This place changes shape for me a lot. It’s always the place that means the most to me at the time. When I was a kid it was my Abuelita’s kitchen. As a teenager it was the backseat of Hunk’s shitty Neon. Before our last case it was… Ricky’s dorm.”_

_The sudden frigid draft coming of his companion felt nice._

_“I wonder why I’m seeing Witch Trap now.” Lance pondered._

_“…_ mine _…”_

_“It’s not like I have any good memories here.” He continued._

_“_ Mine _.”_

_“I guess after everything that happened here I wouldn’t be seeing Ricky’s place anymore, huh?”_

_“_ MINE! _”_

 _Lance wondered when he had started shivering. His breath was coming out in frosted clouds of condensation. His hand_ burned _where it touched Duende’s. He was quite for a long moment, letting himself bask in the ache of his memories suddenly pouring over him._

_He could almost hear Ricky’s voice, distorted and tinny from the way he screaming into the phone, tearing a hole into Lance’s chest with nothing but angry words. He could almost feel the hot tears dripping down his cheeks, the scrapes and cuts from running wildly through the underbrush. He could see Witch Trap the way it had been that night, how his mind hadn’t dared showing it since. Vibrant autumn leaves falling around him, and everything was dead. His heart and the leaves and the girl wringing his neck._

_He could almost hear Pidge calling and feel Hunk’s strong arms as he picked him up and carried him back to the road where the ambulance waited._

_“Duende, why are you still here?” Lance asked breathlessly, “I showed you the way, so why didn’t you cross over?”_

_Duende rose beside him, pulling her hand away from his, only to rest it lightly on his Adam’s apple. Lance still did not dare to look at her, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt he hair brush against his face as she leaned over him. Her breath was coming in quick wheezing gasps now._

_“_ Lance… mine… _”_

_“No,” Lance said, “I’m not.”_

_The ghost fingernails were digging in now, spreading icy panic through him._

_“He… he can’t… have you!” She hissed._

_“He won’t,” he assured her bitterly, “Ricky doesn’t want me anymore!”_

_Duende heaved a single mocking “Ha!” at him before pulling back completely and standing upright. Lance sat up and gazed careful at her bare feet. They were pale and dirty, but it was the burning hooves beyond them that startled him into looking up._

_She was beautiful in a morbid and ghoulish way, expression twisted into cruel possessiveness that curled his stomach in unease. Her dress was tattered and a length of rotting rope was still knotted at her neck. The truly horrific sight was the looming figure a ways behind her, wrapped in shadow, not but a darker silhouette against the trees. The wicked curve of horns, the razor gleam of teeth…_

_“El Diablo!” he heard his Abuelita’s voice run through his head in warning._

_Lance scrambled back until his should hit the base of the cottonwood. Duende, no, the titular Witch of Witch Trap was facing the figure, el diablo, fingers curled like deadly talons. She spared a glace back at him._

_“Not… Ricky…” she told him, “My Lance… run!”_

“Where _the fuck_ is he?” Keith seethed.

He had sleep like shit, tossing and turning and jolting awake from vague nightmares, all while trying not to wake the older man beside him. The itch hadn’t gone away, had only intensified into a full blown _urge_. He had shaken Shiro awake after only six hours of sleep, unable to keep himself still any longer. His face must have shown it because Shiro had groggily agreed to help him search. And search they had.

After Lance’s room had come up empty, they had checked the dining hall, the HQ, the _fucking library, like Lance would be there_ , and had come up empty handed. Keith had sent two different maid scurrying after barking orders at them to find and bring Lance to HQ.

“Let’s check HQ again and see if anyone found him,” Shiro suggested calmly after they had found the sprawling front lawn empty as well.

“Yeah, sure.” Keith mumbled distractedly.

Making their way back to headquarters, Shiro had paused briefly on the staircase.

“Shiro, come on, hurry!” Keith had complained.

“Hold on. Do you hear--?”

Without warning, every single ornate painting, decoration and shelf of knick-knacks on the stairwell fell off the wall with a shattering force. Shiro and Keith exchanged a shocked look before ether eyes darted to where they knew they had mounted up a camera pointed in this direction.

“Son of a bitch!” Shiro spat, seeing that the camera hung limply in its rig, pointed at the floor below it.

“Shit,” Keith cried, “We need to find Lance _now_!”

“The camera--!”

“Fuck the camera, Shiro!” Keith snapped, running ahead of him towards the HQ.

The thought that now was the first time they saw activity, when Lance was MIA and Keith’s instincts were practically screaming danger at him…

Keith was a moment away from panicking when he collided with someone as he raced around the corner. They went down heavily, knees and elbows digging painfully into soft flesh. Keith struggled free, caging the other under him in between his arms.

“Keith?” They asked slowly, staring at him with hooded brown eyes.

“Lance?!” Keith demanded.

While a sight for sore eyes, Lance was not looking all that great. His skin was sallow, eyes bagged and…

“Are you bleeding?” Keith asked, reaching out to tilt Lance neck back to find what looked like nail marks marring his skin.

“Keith…” Lance drawled, long and slurred, “’M tired, kay?”

Keith’s brow furrowed. Lance wasn’t acting quite right. Was he drunk? No, Keith would smell it on him from here.

“Keith! Lance!” Shiro had caught up with them, running to kneel at their sides, “What’s happened? Where was he?”

“I don’t know!” Keith replied, “Something’s up.”

“Lance, where have you been?” Shiro asked.

Lance turned slowly towards Shiro and blinked at him for a moment before his sluggish brain processed the question.

“I was… investigating? With Kadnes, in the dungeons.” Lance told him, though he didn’t sound sure of the answer. “I just left there.”

“You just left?”

“…yeah?”

“Lance, you’re telling me you spent eighteen consecutive hours investigating?” Shiro asked dangerously.

Keith knew that tone. It was the same tone Shiro used on him when he was reckless or rash. He winced in sympathy thinking about the lecture Lance would get sometime soon. Lance was confused though.

“I—no?” he muttered, “Where are my cameras? Where is Kadnes?”

Keith ran a comforting hand along Lance’s back.

“Don’t you remember?” Keith asked.

Lance shook his head.

“I remember…” Lance frowned, “fire. So many embers burning just under ash, and frost creeping along a still lake. A million stars.”

“Did he hit his head?” Shiro asked Keith.

“Maybe? Let’s get him to HQ and have Allura fetch the doctor.”

Keith helped Lance to his feet, keeping a tight hold on his hand even after they were righted. Lance made no move to pull away. They hurried him to the room just down the hall.

“Lance!” his team cried in unison. Hunk enveloped him in a warm hug and Pidge punched him in the arm before raising his eyes at Lance and Keith’s intertwined fingers. Allura and Coran heaved a sigh of relief while Coran sent a butler to spread word the searching staff that Lance had been found.

“Where were you?!” Pidge cried angrily.

“We don’t know, but he is dazed.” Shiro told them, “He’s talking nonsense!”

“I’m not!” Lance retorted, “I think I was napping.”

Keith and Shiro exchanged another glance.

“Okay,” Keith said, “Explain. Now. No more secrets.”

“We didn’t want to push, but this is getting dangerous.” Shiro agreed.

Hunk fidgeted and Pidge looked to Lance for his decision.

“Yeah,” Lance said after a long moment of deliberation, “It couldn’t hurt.”

Allura made them tea while they all settled around the coffee table. They didn’t have seating for seven, so Pidge and Lance had taken places on the floor and Allura leaned elegantly on the armrest of Shiro’s chair.

“Should I start, then?” Lance asked.

Being met with nods, he continued.

“I’m… talented.” He said, unsure how to explain, “Sometimes I will slip into a sleeplike trance my Abuelita calls ‘napping.’ There I meet the spirit around me and help them find peace. It runs in my family.”

“I see.” Shiro said, once again impressed by the other, “What does that have to do with what you were saying in the hallway?”

Lance frowned and tried to think of a way to word it.

“Lance can’t really remember his dreams. He describes them like images, concepts or emotions.” Hunk took over.

“So embers and frost and stars were the way he was remembering the spirit from his nap?” Keith asked, leaning forward to place his hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Yeah, sounds about right.” Pidge muttered, “Vague. Incomprehensible.”

There was a moment of silence while the new information was absorbed.

“I have something to admit too.” Shiro confessed.

“Three years ago I went missing along with my whole team of demonologists. We were exploring the woods around here, where there were reports of cults and such. A year later I stumbled up to the Castle of Lions. I was violent and out of control. Allura’s head priest guessed that I was possessed and successfully exorcised me. I don’t remember anything from the year I was missing and none of my team has been found.”

“What?!” Lance exclaimed.

“I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you wouldn’t trust me.” Shiro told him.

“Trust?” Lance squeaked, “ _Trust?_!”

Shiro prepared himself for the worst Lance could throw at him.

“How dare you? Walking back into the place you were exorcised without the full and complete support of your team? Are you insane?” Lance scolded him hysterically, “Do you know how traumatic that could be? What if you have PTSD and _we didn’t know_? What if it sent you into a panic attack and _we didn’t know_?”

“What?” Shiro asked.

“Do you have any idea how easily we could have triggered you? What if we had accidently put you in an emotionally vulnerable situation, Shiro?! You could have gotten hurt!”

Shiro really couldn’t believe his ears. Lance wasn’t scared of him. Lance was lecturing him. Shiro had been imagining Lance reacting the same way he had worried Keith would before he told. That he would hate him. Call him a monster.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro muttered, looking at Lance in wonder.

“You don’t sound sorry at all!” Lance raged.

“You’re amazing.”

“Damn right!” Lance snapped, “Wait—what?”

Shiro reached over the coffee table and hauled Lance into a sweet kiss. Hunk squealed happily and Coran coughed and shielded Allura’s eyes.

“I like you a lot.” Shiro told him, letting him go.

“Seconded,” Keith said seriously from his seat, “I also think Lance is amazing and I like him a lot.”

“That wasn’t exactly the type of confession we were going for here,” Pidge said, unamused, “So if you’re all quite done?”

Lance’s mind seemed to be overloaded, so he urged Pidge to speak while he hid his flushed cheeks and tried to slow his pounding heart.

“My real name is Katie Holt.” Pidge said with no preamble.

He was met with muttered acknowledgement and a sarcastic wolf whistle from Lance. Pidge turned to Shiro.

“I knew.” Shiro told him, “You look so much like Matt. And all the emails I had received from Katie Holt came from a Garrison University email address.”

“Oh.” Pidge said turning to Allura and Coran.

“We asked Shiro when if he knew anything when Shay said your name. We assumed the rest.” Coran explained while Allura nodded beside him.

“I had no idea!!!” Hunk joked while Lance pretended to faint from shock.

“Shut it, you two!” Pidge yelled, “You were there when I cut my hair! I knew you knew!”

Hunk and Lance giggled.

“Um,” Keith addressed Pidge, “Just to be sure I’m not misgendering you…”

“He/him pronouns,” Pidge assured him, “And don’t call me Katie unless I’m wearing a dress.”

“Okay, cool.” Keith said, needing no further explanation.

Shiro turned to Lance again.

“So what should we do about your missing camera?” Shiro asked him.

“Maybe Kadnes has it.” Lance suggested.

“What missing camera?” Pidge asked.

“Who?” Allura chimed in.

It only took a moment for everyone to realize something was off.

“Kadnes, your dungeon constable?” Lance told Allura.

“Lance’s camera didn’t come back with him.” Shiro said to Pidge.

“We haven’t needed a dungeon constable in over a century, since the dungeons were sealed off. And I have no ‘Kadnes’ staffed.” Allura assured him.

“Lance’s camera was here this morning when I got here. It’s on his desk.” Pidge said.

Six pair of his zeroed in on Lance’s camera just across the room before swiveling back to him.

“Kadnes… doesn’t exist?” Lance muttered to himself, horrified.

“Let’s watch your film, Lance.” Hunk said.

Pidge snatched Lance’s camera and hurried to hook it up to his laptop. He pulled up the video file of the first night as the others crowded around him. Keith wrapped a comforting arm around Lance, pulling him in close to the screen.

The video started out with Lance introducing himself and their investigation, before aiming down the hallway.

“ _Kadnes, introduce yourself!_ ” he said on the video.

“ _He’s just a little shy_.” Lance had laughed after a moment.

“This can’t be right!” Lance moaned, “I remember this! He was there! He said, “I’m no investigator!” I—I saw him!”

“Its okay, Lance.” Shiro told him, “We believe you.”

Pidge skipped around on the video file. At no point was there anyone around Lance.

“He’s in the dungeons, all right.” Coran said watching him explore on the screen, “But that door he got in through should’ve been boarded up and locked.”

“I was alone?” Lance asked numbly, “This whole time, I’ve been alone?”

Shiro and Hunk traded a look.

“Why don’t we get you to bed?” Shiro asked, “You must be tired.”

Lance shook his head frantically.

“I don’t—“he said shyly, “I don’t want to be left there—“

“I’ve been dying for some extra sleep, too. I’ve been sleeping badly.” Keith cut him off, “And its best you start staying in our room. Too dangerous for you to be alone. Let’s go crash.”

“Why not with us?” Hunk started to ask, but shut up with a sharp look from Pidge.

Lance looked eternally grateful.

“We’ll look through this footage.” Pidge told him, “Go.”

“I’ll meet you there before lunch,” Shiro said.

Lance followed Keith through the hallways to their room. Once he was inside, he eyed the sole king-sized bed with some trepidation.

“I’ll take the couch,” Lance said, kicking his shoes of by the door.

“Like hell!” Keith told him, “You’ll join me and Shiro in the bed.”

Lance blushed, but didn’t agree. Keith’s eyes narrowed.

“Or are you _chicken_?”

Keith was unsure if such a childish method would work, but was surprised when Lance screeched “AM NOT!” while yanking his shirt and pants off, leaving him in his boxers. He threw himself into the bed.

“HA!” Lance crowed, pointing at him when he hesitated, “Now, who’s chicken?”

Keith couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him, turning into a full blown laugh when Lance looked confused.

“You’re such a child!” Keith chuckled, crawling in next to him.

“You started it!” Lance said, appalled, sending Keith into another fit of giggles.

After the offense wore off, the irony of the situation occurred to Lance and he was laughing as well. When they finally quieted they were laying facing each other and Lance felt safe for perhaps the first time since Witch Trap.

“Goodnight.” Lance said, wanting to burn the image of Keith grinning next to him in bed into his eyes forever.

“Technically,” Keith retorted, already closing his eyes, “Good morning.”

Lance rolled his eyes, but Keith was already out. He followed soon after, sleeping deep and peacefully. He was awakened sometime later feeling deeply rested and stiff. There was a hand carding through his hair and a weight dipping the mattress next to him.

“Wakey, wakey.” Shiro told him, “You should wake Keith while I grab a quick shower. It’ll take a while. Then we can go down to lunch.”

“Mmmkay,” Lance murmured noncommittally. He just wanted Shiro to keep playing with his hair.

“Good boy.” Shiro teased, withdrawing his hand and retreating to the adjourning bathroom.

Lance let himself doze for another ten minutes before untangling himself from the handsy cuddle-monster Keith and pulling himself into a sitting position. He turned to the other boy whom was now snuggling into the warm spot Lance had just been laying in.

“Wake up.” Lance said.

Keith ignored him.

“Wake uppppp!” Lance whined, shaking him, “Keith, come onnnnn!”

“Shut it!” Keith groaned with his face in a pillow, “Go distract Shiro and let me sleep. I’ll owe you a favor.”

Now, Lance was really awake.

“Promise?”

Keith made a noncommittal noise that Lance took as confirmation. He got out of bed and stretched for a moment before ambling over to the bathroom. He paused briefly at the door, wondering if this was an invasion of privacy. He didn’t think an irate Shiro would accept the Keith-made-me-do-it excuse. Deciding that since he “liked him a lot” Shiro would deal with it, he continued.

Lance crept into the humid bathroom while Shiro was finishing up his shower. He hoisted himself up onto the counter beside the sink and leaned back against the ornate mirror behind him as he watched Shiro’s hand grab around for the towel before he emerged with it (tragically) wrapped around his waist.

“Lance,” he greeted in surprise.

Lance grinned at the older man. From his spot on the bathroom counter he had a perfect view of the way the water dripped from his hair and traced down his well-muscled chest through the steam. Shiro secretly enjoyed the attention from the other.

“You come here often?” Lance asked, winking.

“To the bathroom?” Shiro teased him.

Lance had the decency to blush.

Shiro stepped forward pushing his way in between Lance’s legs, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“You’re too cute.” He told him.

“Cute!” Lance protested, “I am the height of seduction! The savant of sexy, if you will!”

“Adorable.” Shiro grinned at him, cutting off his protests with another kiss.

And another.

Shiro could taste the coffee on Lance’s tongue. He could feel the way Lance had melted into the hold he had on him, yielding completely to his mouth and will.

“Has Keith gotten up yet?” Shiro asked, pulling away but keeping his hand curled around the back of Lance’s neck.

Lance was finding it hard to concentrate with the way Shiro was rubbing circles into his neck with his thumb. The other hand resting on his hip, fingers dipping just barely under the waistband of his boxers definitely wasn’t helping either.

“Nope,” Lance drawled, pulling Shiro closer again, “He sent me to distract you so he could sleep longer.”

Shiro rewarded Lance for the truth with another hot kiss.

“What’s a man to do with you two plotting against me?”

Lance flushed further and opened his mouth to say something but seemed to get embarrassed and turned away to mumble inaudibly. Shiro’s eyebrows raised quizzically and he guided Lance’s face back to his.

“Speak up, Lance.” He ordered playfully.

Lance looked like he was about to die from shame, but Shiro hadn’t missed to way his breath hitched and he trembled in excitement.

“I said, uh, that maybe you’ll have to--,” Lance stuttered hunching in on himself, “p-punish us?”

The thrill that sizzled through him and settled into his groin made him groan. He pulled Lance back into a clashing kiss, their teeth clinked and Lance writhed against him and Shiro nipped at Lance’s bottom lip as it ended.

“Is that what you want, Lance?” Shiro whispered roughly into his ear, “Do you want me to bend you over my knee? Do you want Keith to watch while he waits his turn?”

“Yes,” Lance whined, “Yes, sir.”

Shiro had to take a moment to calm himself down. Keith would never forgive him if he fucked Lance into the wall while he slept in the next room over.

“Let’s wake Keith, then.” Shiro suggested.

Lance was about to agree when a vicious chill suddenly filled the room, despite the lingering steam.

“What is--?” Lance started to ask but trailed of as he watched a shape appear traced in the fogged up glass of the shower stall.

He watched it as it formed the final curve. A backwards “K.” Slowly, the next letter formed, then the next.

K A D N E S

Each letter was backwards, causing the word, the name, to appear odd to Lance.

“Kadnes?” Lance wondered aloud, “But why--?”

“No,” Shiro hissed pulling Lance closer to him protectively, “Not ‘Kadnes.’”

He had been watching the letters appear in the mirror over Lance’s shoulder. The name it spelled out was far worse than a supposed spirit that had mislead Lance. Far more malicious. Shiro knew that from experience.

“Sendak.” He hissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wondering... did anyone figure that out before the reveal?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kICKED MY ASS.  
> Hope you all enjoy it cause it nearly killed me.

“Really?” Allura was laughing, “And you punched him?”

Pidge let himself chuckle as well. The dining hall was bright and open; the chatter of maids and scent of pork sausages filled the air. Pidge felt comfortable here, basking in the warmth of hominess that followed the Countess around. Despite the troubles they were facing, the entire community of residents seemed to lighten in the presence of their Lady. Pidge could understand why. There was something… well, _alluring_ about her.

“Yeah, knocked him right out,” Pidge bragged, eliciting a new round of giggles from the woman, “Even the stage director didn’t know how to bounce back from that.”

“It sounds like Lance really deserved it!” Allura said.

“I remember that!” Hunk exclaimed, “That was the first rumor I heard when I transferred schools!”

“That’s right, we met soon after that.”

“So you all met in high school?” Allura asked.

“Yup!” Hunk told her, “Lance and Pidge were already close when I showed up.”

Pidge snorted derisively.

“Close is a word I wouldn’t have used.” Pidge said.

“Whatever he’s saying isn’t true!” Lance cried, running up to the table, “All lies, I swear!”

“Good afternoon, Lancelot.” Allura teased.

Lance looked utterly devastated.

“Pidge, how could you! You swore to never speak of that play again!”

“Sounds juicy, what are you talking about?” Keith asked as he and Shiro strode up to the table. Pidge noted the way Shiro and Keith flanked Lance closely.

“Nothing!” Lance replied quickly.

“Not important,” Shiro told them, “We have something pretty major to discuss.”

Now that the whole table’s attention was on Shiro, he told them about the name written in the steam.

“Sendak?” Allura asked, “As in the man you were asking for before the exorcism?”

“Yes, exactly like that.”

“Like Sendak the Horrid? The commander of the Galra clan that warred with the Altea family centuries ago?” Coran asked.

He was met with blank stares.

“The Galra Wars? The most hated enemy of the Altean line?” Allura added.

“Are you saying that Sendak was some sort of famous military guy?” Hunk asked.

“Legendary! His cruelty and devotion to his Dark God were hugely celebrated by his people and feared by ours!” Coran informed them.

“Would you like to come sit in on a spirit box session tonight, Coran?” Lance asked, “We could use that kind of historic knowledge on the investigation.”

Coran puffed up proudly and looked to Lance as if he was an angel.

“I’d love to, my boy!”

“Great! Thanks Coran, you’re the best!” Lance grinned at him.

“Actually, I wanted to talk about our investigations anyway.” Lance continued. “We’ll need more time here. So if Allura could speak to our sponsor with the university?”

“Anything I can do to help.” Allura responded.

“Also, we need to restructure our teams.” Lance told them.

Keith smirked.

“Pidge, Hunk and I will investigate together again, and Allura has offered to accompany Shiro and Keith.”

Keith’s face fell. Hunk cheered.

“The dynamic trio, back together again!” He crowed.

“Dynamic implies duo, Hunk.” Pidge told him, “I prefer the terrific trinity, personally.”

“And I don’t want anyone alone anymore, ever. Teams of two, no matter where you’re at.” Lance told them.

“Speaking of which, I finished reviewing the footage of your solo investigations.” Pidge told him.

“What did you find?” Lance asked, somewhat hesitantly.

“What do you remember?” Pidge returned.

Lance frowned, meet with immediate comforting contact from both sides. Pidge wanted to gag.

“I remember investigating with Kadnes. He told me a lot of historical uses for the rooms we were in and such, but not much else? I don’t remember ever walking back, or really what kind of activity we got, if any.”

“Don’t worry about that, there was tons.” Hunk remarked.

“Really?” Lance asked.

“At one point you let the spirit box run all night, picking up voices left and right, but you just kept sighing and telling… _Kadnes_ that it normally worked better. It was like you didn’t see or hear any of it. You would hold the EMF detector, watch it go crazy and just ignore it.” Pidge elaborated, “Other times, you would just stand absolutely still and silent for hours, facing a corner. Seriously creepy, dude.”

Lance shuddered.

“Yeah, like I said. No more alone time.” He reiterated. “What about the X Cam that had been diverted before the incident on the staircase with Shiro and Keith?”

“The video didn’t show anything… It just got knocked over. By nothing.”

“Right. The wind and all.” Hunk scoffed.

“Anything to add, Shiro?” Lance asked.

“Me?” he asked, “Why me?”

“You lead the VPI? This is a collaborative investigation.” Lance said.

“I thought it was obvious,” Keith laughed, “We decided to let you lead us all as a team. You’re the most talented spiritually. We trust your lead.”

“Just call us the Voltron Paranormal Research Society!” Hunk teased Allura, whom sniffed.

“I saw that coming.” She told Hunk seriously, “Perhaps I am also psychic.”

“Well, I guess tonight we’ll do it with these new teams, then meet up for a spirit box session in whatever hotspot we get a lot of activity in?”

His team nodded in agreement.

 

 

“Play that back, Pidge!”

The investigation had been going exceedingly well. There was activity. Not a great amount, but much better than what they were getting before. They were covering so much ground and getting some wonderfully intelligent responses.

Pidge rewinded the recorder as Lance leaned in closer. Hunk trained the camera on them. He hit play and they listened intently as the recorded version of Lance asked why any spirits lingered here.

There. A whisper.

“Again, Pidge.” Lance requested, “Louder this time.”

_“…twelve nights… alone…”_

“Twelve nights alone?” Hunk repeated.

“I hear that too.” Pidge said.

Lance nodded and wrote it down. He motioned for Pidge to resume recording.

“What do you want?”

“When did you die?”

“Who rules the Castle of Lions?”

“What year is it?”

“Lance, dude, lets switch to the Spirit Box.” Hunk suggested after what seemed like hours of nothing. “We can review this stuff later.”

“Right.” He agreed.

“I’ll call the others,” Pidge said, “Where do you want us at, Lance?”

Lance took a moment to think things over. The entire castle was creepy at night, but he was loathe to admit that there was only one place that set his skin crawling. Thinking of going back there, despite having his whole group, was setting him on edge.

“A brightly lit room?” Lance tried.

Pidge arched an eyebrow.

“The evil dungeon.” Lance groaned.

“That’s what I thought, scared-y cat.” Pidge said, stepping away to radio the others.

“Man, I thought I was the boss.” Lance whined to Hunk.

“Really?” Hunk chuckled, “You may be the President, but you were never actually in charge.”

Lance pouted.

Meeting up at the main entrance to the dungeons with the entire team together felt a little more comfortable than Lance had thought. Last time he was here he had been unwittingly following a centuries old ghost into the darkness. Now, there was six others backing him up.

“Lance, are you sure you’re ready for this?” Shiro asked, probably thinking the same thing.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Lance replied.

Keith rolled his eyes and Pidge snorted.

“You’re both too stubborn to let something as trivial as _life-altering trauma_ stop you.”

“Psshaw! Pidge, you know me! In high school they called me Iceman because of how cool I was under pressure!”

There was a loud metallic clank as Coran unlocked the entrance gate. Lance screeched and grabbed ahold of Keith’s jacket.

“That’s a scary lock, huh, Iceman?” Keith teased.

“S-shut up!” Lance cried, hiding his red face in Keith’s shoulder.

“Lance,” Allura called his attention, “Would you like to lead? Out of everyone, I believe you have the most right to confront this place first.”

Lance tried to swallow back the trepidation he felt rising inside him. He nodded and approached the gate but paused on the threshold. How many times had he blindly followed a malicious spirit into this place, totally alone and vulnerable? The swell of cold that meet him chilled him to the bones and a sense of unease filled him.

“I’m not scared of you.” He told the darkness, “You’ll have to try harder to get to me.”

“Lance, don’t provoke the—“

“Come at me, I dare you!”

“ _Lance!_ ”

Lance shot an apologetic look over his shoulder at Hunk, but shrugged. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or the others of his bravery, but it gave him the courage to step into the darkness and keep going after that.

“Let’s head to the central hub,” Lance said as he led them down the twisting stair, “It’s a large antechamber that has several halls leading off it, like spokes on a wheel. It’s the center of the dungeon and… it’s the place you saw me standing still.”

“Ah, that would be the Undercroft, mainly used for storage up until the war.” Coran explained, “My great-great-great granduncle was the Head Clerk up until it was overtaken by the guard as a detainment facility.”

“Detainment facility? Would Sendak have been kept down here?” Pidge asked.

“Most certainly!” Coran exclaimed as they reached the bottom, “In fact, he would have been one of the first they buried down here!”

_Buried… down here?_

_Buried down here?!_

Lance felt another chill drip down his spine as the step into the gaping maw of the Undercroft.

“Buried here?” Shiro asked the question Lance had been screaming in his head, “As in, his remains are still here?”

“Of course,” Allura said, “All the deceased prisoner were burned. Their bones and ashes were walled in or otherwise built into the dungeon according to Castle of Lions’s custom.”

“Oh my god. You have bones in your basement!” Hunk cried, “You’re asking for the ghosties!”

“How so?” Coran asked, “They were given proper burial.”

“What part of _unmarked graves_ is _proper burial_?”

Lance agreed with Hunk, but something else was pulling on his attention.

_Thud._

_Thud, thud._

Just barely audible behind him, where he knew to be a pitch black hallway. He refused to look back, refused to acknowledge it just yet.

“Set up now!” He called, cutting off Hunk’s hysterical interrogation of Coran, “Hunk and Pidge, I want X Cams covering the entire Undercroft. Shiro and Keith, Static Night Vision cams pointing down every hall. Allura and Coran, if you could, turn on all the recorders, then gather in the center for a Spirit Box session. Stay in your pairs, no one goes alone.”

Everyone scrambled at his barked order. Lance was a little surprised by the level of compliance. Normally even his own team gave him lip.

“Taking charge, huh?” Keith teased him as he walked past to grab a camera, “That’s cute.”

“He does wear leadership well, doesn’t he?” Shiro added, “But I like him better without—“

“Ew!” Pidge called from the other side of the room, “Sound travels in here so please cut that out! Gross!”

The three of them grinned abashedly.

“Sorry, buddy!” Shiro called back.

Lance watched from the center as they set up, trying to let his senses attune themselves to his surroundings. With concentration, he could feel the distant thrum of energies. His team’s was vibrant and alive, but there was more hiding underneath them. One creeping in the shadows. Another looming like a frost chasing the heels of fall. He struggled to try and pull them forth, but was ultimately unable to do so. He just wasn’t talented that way, not like his sisters were.

“Lance? Are you ready?” Hunk asked distantly, “Are you centering your aura?”

Lance opened his eyes, not aware that he had shut them to begin with.

“Yeah,” He said, finding everyone standing around him and all the equipment in place, “Trying to anyway. Ya’know. Failing.”

“You’ll get it one day, bro.” Hunk assured him.

“What were you doing?” Keith asked.

“It’s just something my sisters can do. They sort of read auras and pull certain ones forth. I’m not great at it. But hey! We can’t all be perfect!”

“You’re amazing.” Keith said sincerely.

Lance could feel his face flush.

“Oh, um—let’s get started, yeah. Let’s do this.”

“So there is a way to shut him up.” Pidge whispered to Hunk.

Lance scowled at him and motion for them all to take a seat on the floor around him. He dropped to the floor himself, cradling the spirit box to his chest.

“What exactly is that device?” Allura asked.

“This is the P-SB7 Spirit Box. It is an adjustable sweep frequency machine. In between each sweep is static, um, ‘white noise’ I you will. It’s meant to allow spirits to utilize the frequencies to speak. You can get the occasional radio bleed through, but spirits… sound different in a way. Like they are above the radio sweeps.”

“I see.” Allura said looking intrigued.

“Would you like to ask some questions?” Lance offered, attaching speakers.

“I’d love to.”

“I like to start by introducing myself,” Lance told her, “It’s just polite and it invites good manners in return.”

“What should I ask?”

“Whatever you want to know.” Lance said, switching on the device.

Allura and Coran jumped as loud waves of static filled the room, washing over them in a steady rhythm. Lance nodded at Allura.

“My name is Allura Altea, Countess of this Castle. I would like to ask you some questions, if that’s alright?”

Several sweeps past before a voice was heard.

[MY LADY]

Allura grinned and looked to Lance in excitement. Lance grinned back. That was an intelligent response.

“To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” She asked,

This time, no voice was forthcoming.

“Try another question—“ Lance started.

[COOK]

“What?” Lance asked, “What did it say?”

“I believe it said ‘Cook.’” Coran said.

“Cook! How wonderful!” Allura cried happily, “Thank you for your service to my family!”

[HONORED]

[MY LADY]

Lance was surprised by how fast the responses were coming now. He caught Shiro’s eye and nodded to the EMF detector next to him. Shiro picked it up.

“High readings on the EMF detector. Amazing!” He called.

“Cook, are there any other entities here?”

They listened intently to the sweeps of white noise for the voice. It appeared again, but only wailed across several sweep and cut off abruptly.

“Temperature just dropped four degrees.” Pidge announced when the MEL Meter beeped.

**[BITCH RULER]**

Allura flinched back, eyes wide. Lance scowled. He knew that voice.

“Kadnes!” He hissed, “You lied to me!”

The sweeps seemed to grow louder and were slowly filled with chatter.

**[FOOLISH BOY]**

“What do you want from me?!” Lance demanded angrily, “Why are you here?”

The chatter continued, and the room seemed to grow warmer. Warmer.

“Why are you here?!” Lance called again.

The MEL Meter beeped. The EMF dinged. The Undercroft was filled with the distant sound of echoing footsteps.

“Temperature up eighteen degrees, Lance! Shit.” Pidge called, huddling closer to Hunk.

**[HAIL ZARK--]**

Lance slammed his hand down on the off switch as quickly as he could, and the room was plunged into silence once again. From all sides, Lance was getting bombarded with angry, violent energies.

“Lance, what the hell? He was about to give another name!” Keith snapped.

“No,” Lance said, “Whatever Sendak was about to say… I don’t think it’s a good idea to say aloud.”

In his head he could hear his Abuelita’s voice. A ghost of a memory.

“ _Names hold power, mijo. Never utter the name of a demon. Nunca el diablo_.”

“You mean…?” Shiro asked.

“I think Sendak is being controlled by something else.” Lance told them, all too aware of how vulnerable they were here, darkness on all sides, “Something that perhaps you brought here, Shiro. That would explain why the spirits here were never so active, never so violent, before you appeared here.”

Shiro looked miserable. Everyone else was reading Lance’s implications with varying levels of horror.

“I don’t want to be down here any longer.” Lance said after another moment, “Not until we have priests with us. After tonight, no one should be here.”

Allura nodded and they all made to get up.

“Leave the cameras.” Lance instructed, “Maybe they’ll catch something. I don’t want to take the time to collect them.”

Lance herded them up the stairs, bringing up the rear himself. The rushed out the door into the main castle’s hall. Lance turned and slammed the door behind him, sliding multiple locks into place. He sighed in relief as he took in the much lighter atmosphere.

“I think that’ll be enough for the night.” Lance told them. “Let’s leave the rest for tomorrow.”

Shiro patted him roughly on the back.

“Don’t sound so mopey. You did great.”

Lance smiled slightly at him.

“Thanks.”

Keith peaked over Shiro’s shoulder.

“Yeah, who would mope when we get to cuddle Shiro now?” he pointed.

“You’re all sharing a bed?” Hunk asked.

Uh oh, Lance thought, remembering Hunk zeal when it came to safe sex.

“I don’t wanna know!” Pidge declared.

“Uh, yeah?” Lance said, flushing, “For safety and all.”

“Safety?” Hunk said sternly, “I’ll give you safety! We’ve got some condoms in the med kit, come to HQ and get them, you horny rascals!”

“La la LA LA!!” Pidge cried covering his ears.

Lance stood there, mortified as the Countess giggled at him.

“No need,” Keith said, “Shiro and I’ve already thought of that. We got condoms, lube and all that stuff. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of Lance and his ass.”

“ _Keith!_ ” Lance cried as Allura was outright laughing at his scandalized expression.

“What?”

“I think he’s embarrassed,” Shiro told Keith, “Maybe he didn’t want them to know yet.”

“Ah. Whoops.” Keith shrugged.

Pidge was already hurrying away from them, dragging Hunk after him. Lance bolted away from them, towards their room. Shiro and Keith waved goodbye and hurried after him.

“My, what a lively bunch.” Coran commented.

“They’re certainly spirited.” Allura replied, “I think I will miss them all greatly when they leave.”

 

That night, something stirred Keith from his sleep. He sat up slowly and looked around. On the other side of Shiro, Lance’s head rest in the lap of a beautiful woman. She was bright and cold and hard to look at. Keith was sure there had never been an angel quite as lovely. She ran long, pale fingers through the sleeping man’s hair.

“Keep… him… safe…” She wheezed.

Keith nodded at her sleepily.

“Yeah, I will.” He told her, laying back down.

He watched her watching over Lance until he was lost again to sleep.

 

 

The next day the Headquarters was crowed and busy as the five investigator reviewed tapes and hours upon hours of recordings. Lance enjoyed listening to audio with Keith the best. While they both listened, Keith allowed him to lie his head against his neck.

During a break to eat, Shiro and Keith had crowded around him to share a plate of food they had brought up to HQ, watching the newest episode of some trashy reality show Lance kept up with on his laptop.

“Hey Lance, I’m gonna check up on some social media to notify the viewers of our prolonged hiatus.” Pidge called from a desk behind them.

“Great!” Lance called distractedly, “Good idea!”

Keith was laughing at how keyed up Lance was over some hook up or another when Pidge cursed.

“That _utter douche_!” Seethed Pidge suddenly from behind them.

When Pidge realized he had drawn the attention of the whole room he muttered an apology.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Shiro asked in concern, “Was someone mean to you on the internet?”

Lance had a hard time keeping himself from laughing as he paused his show. Hunk failed at keeping his snickers reigned in.

“What--?! No!” Pidge groaned, “I’m not being cyberbullied, _Dad_. Jesus.”

“I… Did I say something weird?” Shiro asked in puzzlement.

“I don’t get it.” Keith agreed.

Lance waved of Shiro’s questions and shot Pidge a puzzled look.

“Anyway, I’m just upset. Lance really knows how to pick ‘em.”

Shiro and Keith flinched.

“What did we do?” Shiro asked.

“What?” Pidge and Hunk asked.

“Uh!” Lance butt in quickly, face red, “I think that Pidge meant someone else!”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, eyeing the three of them suspiciously, “I meant fucking Ricky.”

“Ricky?” Keith asked, “Who’s Ricky?”

Shiro also looked to Pidge questioningly. Lance went suddenly still.

“Lance’s asshole ex.” Hunk grumbled.

Keith and Shiro both turned to the disgruntled man between them.

“Ah. Yep. Good ol’ Ricky.” Lance said with forced cheer, “Always doing that thing… that he does…”

Pidge raised his eyebrows.

“What did he do this time?” Lance sighed giving up on the happy act.

“He’s vague tweeting us. And he posted an article about the scientific impossibility of the paranormal on Facebook and tagged the GUPRS!” Pidge ranted, “AND he is tweeting our fans all sorts of classified information about our process!”

Shiro placed a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder when Lance appeared to deflate.

“I could call him, I guess?” Lance asked quietly, “Again. I’ll ask him to stop.”

“No!” Pidge yelled, “You will TELL him! You are the boss. You have him under a gag order and you WILL threaten to sue!”

Shiro watched in alarm as Lance seemed to shrink with every word. Keith frowned.

“Pidge!” Hunk scolded, “Lance, you don’t have to do anything, but he has the right idea. This isn’t like when it was just you. He dragged the GUPRS into this. We need him to stop or we’ll lose funding.”

“You have your ex under a gag order?” Keith asked Lance seriously.

“I- uh, I have to deal with this,” Lance said pulling away from the two next to him grabbing his phone, “I needed to call Abuelita anyways. I’ll meet up with you guys for the investigation at ten.”

Shiro watched him walk out the door with a worried look. Keith moved to follow Lance but Hunk stopped him.

“We aren’t letting him go anywhere alone, remember?” Keith said.

“He won’t want you hearing this.” Hunk said sternly, “I’ll follow after him.”

“But—“

“Keith,” Shiro interrupted, “We can’t make him tell us personal things. Sit down and wait for him to come to you.”

Keith didn’t look happy about it but settled back down on the couch. Hunk slipped out of the room after Lance.

 

 

“Come on, Ricky, you know I don’t— You don’t really think that do you?”

Hunk grimaced from his place perched on the bed while he watched Lance pace the wide floor of his old room. He could hear the lilts and nuances of Ricky’s voice through the phone, but not the exact words. Hunk was thankful for that. He wasn’t as close to Ricky as Lance had been, but they had been friends. Close enough that they had let Ricky join the GUPRS despite his skeptical views.

Hunk was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one regretting that.

“No, you’re being unreasonable! I have a court mandate, and—Yes! Yes, fine! I’m threatening you, you ass!”

“Lance, give me the phone.” Hunk said, holding out his hand.

Lance scowled at him, but handed it over. Hunk turned a blind eye at the way he rubbed his eyes when he turned away.

“Richard.” Hunk greeted coolly.

“ _Wha—Hunk?! Where the hell is Lance?_ ”

“He’s got more important stuff to do. We’re kind of busy right now.” Hunk said.

“ _Oh, yeah?_ ” Ricky scoffed, “ _Big case?_ ”

“That’s not your business anymore. Neither are the things you’re illegally putting all over Twitter.”

“ _Really? You too? We all know the gag order is a joke_.”

“It’s no joke.” Hunk told him, “We’ll sue. Really. You’re being immature and petty.”

“ _Whatever, Hunk. Lance deserves it after all the shit he pulled on me_.”

“Lance didn’t pull anything. And he deserves far better than you so _shut up_. Take all that information off Twitter or you’ll hear from the University’s attorney. Goodbye.”

Hunk ended the call and let out a frustrated breath.

“Sorry.” Lance said quietly taking the phone back.

“Come on, man,” Hunk said wrapping him in a bear hug, “You know this isn’t your fault.”

“Still, I—“

“Shut uuuup!” Hunk groaned, playfully pushing Lance away.

Lance grinned and shook his head.

“Now, let’s see what Abuelita has to say about all this!”

Hunk leaned in as Lance dialed and put it on speaker.

The phone rang and rang and rang, but no one picked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Abuelita doesn't deserve what's coming.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex in this chapter. You are welcome.  
> Also, YES. ABUELITA LIVES ON. As if a mere mortal like me could kill her off. Please.

Rosa Maria was no fool. In her sixty-seven years of life she had faced many dangers, both mundane and spiritual. She had been mugged and jumped, possessed and oppressed.

She knew when there was something not right.

And as she walked into her empty house with an armful of groceries, she knew she wasn’t alone. She reached out to flip the light switch. Rosa was unsurprised when nothing happened. The same old classic spiritual bullshit. She wondered vaguely if they would ever learn any new tricks. Straightening her back, she forged bravely on, into the dark of her home.

Each room seemed heavier than the last, and as she moved further in she detected the faint stench of sulfur. A faint thread of fear squirm in her stomach, but stomped it out just as quick as it came. She had faced many demons before and surly after this she would face many more.

She reached the kitchen and placed the groceries on the table. In the dim light of the street light outside, she saw the reflection of a silhouette behind her in the kitchen window.

“Leave this place, demon.” She told him, pulling a rosary from her bag, “You are not welcome here.”

The growl behind her seemed to shake her to the core.

“Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia:” She recited quickly, “El Seńor es—ahh!”

Burning pain tore down her back, and she dropped to her knees. Her rosary caught on something in the dark and snapped, sending beads scattering. The burning in her back made it way to her chest.

The sound of the beads bouncing of the hardwood floor, her gasps and the deep rumble of the entity’s laugh were joined suddenly by the ringing of her phone. She pulled it out of her pocket, and struggled to accept the call from her grandson.

He was oceans away, but perhaps he could call for help. The phone was tore from her hand and shattered against the far wall.

“You are alone, girl.” The demon said, “And the child will fall.”

“Ha!” Rosa laughed as she turned to look up at it, “You have obviously not messed with our family before, demonio!”

He growled low, but was cut off as silver candelabra was swung through him, scattering his image into nothing. The woman stood there clutching her makeshift weapon with a ferocity that startled the older woman. Sometimes, Rosa forgot that she wasn’t the only woman in her family hardened by their way of life.

“Mama!” The newcomer cried, rushing to her aid.

Still, the pressure and burn hammered through her chest.

“Isabel,” Rosa Maria, “¡Llama su sobrino!”

“No, Mama!” Isabel told her, “I’m calling you an ambulance first!”

“It’s after Lance, Isabel!” Rosa gasped, “Call him now!”

 

Shay returned the next morning to many morose faces. She and her brother, Rax had left the day before to ask for assistance from the nearest priest authorized to assist them, which happened to be their grandfather, Father Balmera. They had expected happy faces to greet them, but the investigators were subdued.

Father Balmera greeted Shiro warmly, asking him how he was doing. Shiro, in turn, was happy to see the elderly man as well.

“This is Father Balmera,” Shiro introduced them, “He was the head priest in my exorcism. I owe him my life.”

“Hardly!” Father Balmera laughed, “Shiro here is so strong that he had halfway kicked the demon out before I had even arrived!”

The holy man turned to Keith.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, my boy,” he greeted.

“You too.” Keith nodded, “Thanks for all the help with our research. I know I must have called you in the dead of night more than a few times.”

“Oh, nonsense. Those calls brought excitement to my life! My weary bones could use that once in a while.”

Hunk and Pidge both introduced themselves to the man. Lance hung back, pale and quiet.

“You must be Lance then?” The Father asked him, “The head of Garrison’s group?”

Lance nodded.

“It’s an amazing gift you have there, boy.” Balmera told him, “A gift from god, surely.”

“Not many people see it that way.” Lance mused with a small smile.

“Fools, the lot of them. Many seek to justify their fear of difference by using the Father’s name,” he told Lance, “But I’ve crossed paths with your grandmother a few times in this business. Never meet a more devout woman, and she’s as gifted as they come. Tough as nails, to boot.”

Lance smile faded away, but he nodded. He asked if the father would like to see the highlight reel of evidence they had put together.

He became more animated while talking about the things they had experienced. He told him of the shattered window, of Kadnes and Duende.

“So this spirit attachment,” the man asked, “Is she an immediate danger?”

“No,” Lance replied instantly, “She is not good, but she would do anything for me.”

Father Balmera raised a brow.

“That’s an awfully clear opinion given how vague your gift tends to be.”

“I just know,” Lance told him distantly, “She would let herself burn a hundred times before ever letting him touch me.”

“Who?”

“What?” Lance asked.

“Who were you talking about? Who is he?” Father Balmera asked.

“What are you taking about? I didn’t say anything? I was just talking about Duende?”

Father Balmera, everyone, eyed Lance for a moment. Eventually, the man let it go and asked Lance to continue.

He walked him through every EVP, every shadow figure captured. It took hours to cover it all, and answer every question the Father had. When they had finished, Lance excused himself.

“I haven’t slept well,” Lance told the man, “So I’m afraid I’ll have to leave it there for today. I need to rest.”

And then he left, worn out but happier than he had been all day.

“Is Lance going to be okay?” Keith asked Hunk.

Shiro was hurrying after Lance, whom once again seemed to be intent on ignoring his own rule about being alone.

“Yeah,” Hunk said after a moment, “We gotta give him time to process what’s happened. Abuelita is like his rock.”

“But she’s stable?”

“That’s what his aunt Isabel said,” Pidge said, “A minor heart attack… and three shallow scratches all the way down her back.”

“Shit.” Keith said, “I just wish there was something we could do.”

“I’ve known Lance for a long time. I was there when his mother died,” Pidge told him, “Give him space and he’ll bounce back to normal pretty quick. He is very emotionally tough, but he needs time to think.”

“Lance’s grandmother?” Father Balmera asked from his armchair where he was writing up notes, “Rosa was harmed?”

Hunk nodded.

“His aunt said that the… entity mentioned Lance.”

“How so?” The man leaned forward with interest.

“’The boy will fall.’” Pidge repeated, “Ominous.”

“I see,” The Father said, “My suggestion is that he get his mind off it. Dwelling on the words will only make him weaker to an inevitable attack.”

“I can try.” Keith said, “I’m good at distracting him.”

Pidge snorted and the Father raised his eyebrows, but deigned to comment.

“That’s a good idea.” Hunk told Keith, “I’m horrible at hiding things and he would know what I was trying to do. I don’t think he’d appreciate it.”

“How long do I have to keep him happy?” Keith asked with a grin.

“I need a day to gather supplies and manpower.” Father Balmera told them, “There is too much ground to cover by myself. Too many places to bless at once, and I hardly brought enough holy water.”

“The Castle has a Chapel.” Allura told him, “Obviously, you are welcome to it and the clergy once again.”

“Thank you, milady.”

Keith stood and stretched.

“While you work this all out, I have a man to occupy.”

“Make sure you put a sock on the door!” Pidge called to the confusion of the Romanians.

Keith rolled his eyes and left.

Truth be told, Keith was nervous. His relationship with Lance was rocky at best, and he knew that was mostly his fault. No matter what he had done in the past, Lance had misinterpreted it. The grudge that had lingered for over a year had been resolved, but Keith can hardly believe that Lance was completely okay with how things were now. He seemed content, happy even…

Keith was almost certain that Shiro was the key.

Without Shiro, Keith and Lance had struggled to see eye to eye. The attraction, the _pull_ was still there, but they ended up stepping on each other’s toes and letting their pride get in the way of making amends. Shiro had a way of guiding them around that, allowing them to finally see eye to eye. It was just another reason that Keith was eternally grateful to Shiro.

Ever since Keith had dropped out of Garrison University and ended up on Shiro’s door, the man had consistently been the best part of his life. Originally, Keith had been soloing on his own research. He spent his nights breaking into abandoned buildings and dilapidated asylums, driving around the country in the daylight and sleeping under the stars. It had been romantic until he been arrested. Turns out, it’s not smart to carry around a surplus of video evidence of your long history of B&E. Whoops. The police weren’t even interested in the full body apparition on the video they watched. Fucking pricks.

Shiro had been the only person Keith could contact. His late mother’s best friend’s son. A family friend that Keith hadn’t spoken to in years. The only person that Keith could even think of. He had never felt more alone than the moment he had hesitated at the phone wondering if he could even come up _one_ person to come pay the $500 bail.

Shiro had come and gotten him with some conditions. One, Keith would do things legally from now on. Two, Keith would consider teaming up with him and research something specific. Keith had never said yes so fast in his life.

Since, Keith had one person. Shiro was all he needed, all he wanted. Now, Keith wanted Lance as well. He wanted to travel with Lance. Investigate with him. He wanted to kiss Lance; fuck him. He wanted to hold his hand at a grocery store and meet his Abuelita and watch him graduate college. Keith knew Shiro enough to know he wanted all this too. Keith didn’t know Lance well enough. God, he wanted to, but he didn’t yet.

What did Lance want after this investigation?

He would return to Garrison, but what about this relationship? It was new and fragile and Keith wasn’t sure it could survive much distance. Then again, if this case ended well, Shiro and Keith would have completed their goals. They could settle down. Why not in a sleepy college town near Garrison?

There was a lot they needed to talk about.

How they had time to discuss a safe word but not what exactly their relationship would be a week from now, Keith wasn’t sure.

The stroll to his room had been quiet until he reached the door. He could hear a crash and a groan inside. Keith threw open the door and ran inside, pocket knife already in hand and ready.

Lance and Shiro blinked at him owlishly from where they had knocked over a lamp in the process of tearing each other’s clothes off. Keith closed the door behind him, twisting the lock.

“Why is that so fucking _hot_?” Lance groaned, burying his face in Shiro’s bare chest.

“What?” Keith asked.

“That knife draw was so smooth!” Lance cried.

“And you find that attractive?” Keith asked with a smirk.

“It is.” Shiro assured him.

“So… you guys weren’t going to wait for me?” Keith teased, stepping up to them to trace his fingers along the line of Lance’s back.

“Ah,” Shiro smiled abashedly, “I was seduced.”

“My bad.” Lance chimed in, pouting.

Keith hummed and pinched Lance’s bottom lip firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

“That’s what bad boy’s get.” Keith told him, “You’re lucky Shiro hasn’t spanked you.”

Keith was pleasantly surprised by just how much Lance looked like he wanted that. The second the words had left his mouth, Lance had keened. He blushed a pretty pink and squirmed against Shiro’s hold.

“Oh?” Keith asked, “Shiro?”

“We may have discussed this before.” Shiro told him, “When you bribed him to distract me.”

Keith eyed Lance.

“You weren’t supposed to tell him. Maybe I should be the one doling out punishment.”

Lance looked petulant, but the bulge in his pants gave away what he really thought.

“Lance,” Shiro said grabbing him by the jaw to turn his face back to his own for a quick kiss, “We won’t do anything you don’t want us to.”

Lance looked like he might cry.

“Please,” Lance said quietly, “I want you to.”

Keith grinned.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Keith,” Shiro started.

“Please, Keith,” Lance said louder, staring into Keith’s eyes, “Will you hold my hand while Shiro punishes me?”

Keith didn’t know to respond to that in any way other than nodding. Shiro’s eyes gleamed in excitement. He pulled Lance over to the bed and had him settled over his knees in a second. Keith followed taking Lance’s outstretched hand into both of his as he hovered beside them. He could feel how tense he was. Even if he said he wanted this, he was exhausted and nervous. Keith wished briefly that Lance had asked for them make love to him gently until he could finally sleep, but Keith had never been the type of person to tell people what they want. He wasn’t going to start now.

Shiro grazed a hand down Lance’s bare back, calming him. When his fingers reached the waistband of his pants, he slipped his finders under and eased them down, exposing an expanse of tan skin that Keith had the absurd urge to bite.

Lance squeezed his hand and looked up at him with sultry eyes that had heat pooling in his gut. His face was dangerously close to Keith’s groin.

Shiro cupped Lance’s ass for a moment then pulled his arm back and delivered a sound smack. Lance jerked and whined at the sudden impact. Keith watched with interest as a bright red handprint slowly formed on the curve of Lance’s ass.

“Don’t whine, Lance,” Shiro told him, “You only have nine more.”

Lance quaked at the thought, gripping at Keith’s hands. Keith’s heart speed up. He didn’t think he could last ten more strokes in Lance kept making sounds like that and, _oh god_ , nuzzling his dick through his pants like that.

Shiro gripped Lance’s hair and pulled back, exposing the long column of his neck to Keith. He delivered another ringing slap to the other cheek.

“Open your mouth, Lance. You used those pretty lips to tattle on Keith, so now you should use them to make it up to him.” Shiro ordered.

Lance nodded as much as he could with the tight grip on his hair. He parted his lips and gazed up at him invitingly. Keith wasted no time pulling out his dick and stroking it up to full hardness. He ran the head along Lance’s bottom lip, still red and swollen from where he had pinched it earlier, before letting Lance take it fully into his mouth. Keith groaned, enjoying the talented way Lance used his tongue.

 Shiro spanked Lance harder this time, causing him to jolt forward, gagging as Keith’s dick hit his throat. Keith rolled his hips into Lance’s mouth as Shiro rubbed an apologetic hand over Lance’s cherry cheeks.

“Do you feel how hard I am Lance? You did that.” Shiro told him roughly, grinding his erection into Lance’s stomach, “If only you had been good, I could be fucking you right now.”

Then next three stokes came in quick succession, harder each time. Lance was tearing up now, squirming and undulating his hips, trying futilely to get some friction against his throbbing dick. Shiro held him still.

“Four more, baby.” Shiro told, “You’re doing so well. Only four left.”

Keith hissed at the vibrations of Lance’s whimpers around his dick.

“Good, Lance,” he told him, squeezing his hand, “Just like that. Good boy.”

Shiro went easy on the next stroke, and the next. Lance was concentrating at taking all of Keith as he fucked deeper and deeper into his mouth. Keith’s breath speed up as the next smack had his dick in Lance’s throat again. Lance was ready this time and fought back his gag reflex, hollowing his cheeks and looking up at Keith.

“Lance,” Keith groaned in warning.

He came down Lance’s throat in time with the final stroke, watching as Lance swallowed around him. He pulled back and Lance showed him his empty mouth.

The gesture had Keith ruffling Lance’s hair.

“Good job, Lance. You did great.”

Shiro positioned Lance to kneel between his legs and pulled his own erection out. Keith perched himself next Shiro on the bed, snuggling against him.

“Touch yourself, Lance.” Shiro told him.

Lance nodded quickly and unbuttoned his pants. Shiro stoked himself with quick pulls, grabbing Lance by the hair to keep his face just out reach. Lance opened his mouth and tried to move forward but Shiro held him back.

“Don’t be greedy,” he chided, “You already got to blow Keith, wasn’t that enough?”

Lance shuddered and muttered an apology, fisting his own cock.

“My insatiable little cocksucker,” Shiro teased fondly, “Maybe tomorrow, sweetie, but I want to come on that pretty face now.”

It was like arousal punched the breath right out of Lance. He keened and his pace became frantic. Shiro watched him rub his thumb along the head and squeeze at the base, obviously waiting for Shiro to cum first.

“Fuck, Lance,” Shiro growled.

He picked up the pace until he could feel himself on the edge. He pulled Lance closer just in time to shoot across his cheek and lips. Lance breath came in gasps, as he spilled across his hand soon after. Keith reached forward and used his thumb to collect some of the mess from Lance’s lips and rubbed it into the hot wet of his tongue. Lance sucked at his fingers.

Shiro allowed himself a moment to enjoy the view in his afterglow before he herded them to the bathroom to clean up.

He checked on Lance, asking him he was okay with everything that had transpired before handing him a damp washcloth to wipe his face. Keith started the shower up, attempting to find the perfect temperature.

He only had to break up one soap fight once while they squeezed into the otherwise spacious shower stall. Moments later, his heart warmed as he watched Keith and Lance snicker while they used the shampoo suds to muse each other’s hair into absurd styles. He shook his head at their antics before he rushed them to rinse off, lest they get suds in their eyes.

They dried off and redressed in comfortable clothes. Lance ended up in Shiro’s shirt and Keith’s oversize sweats due to him running out of clean laundry. Keith gathered the blankets from the bed and Shiro grabbed his laptop from the desk and they met Lance at the lumpy couch across the room.

“What are we doing?” Lance asked as they settled into a tangle of limbs and blankets.

“Post-Coitus Netflix B-Movie.” Keith informed him, motioning between himself and Shiro, “It’s our tradition. Yours now, too. Besides, we have today to rest until Father Balmera gets ready.”

“Oh,” Lance said trying to hide his dopey grin.

“Ghost sharks or zombie spiders?” Shiro asked scrolling through the newer releases.

Keith snorted.

“Right,” Shiro replied, “Ghost sharks. Obviously. Why did I even ask?”

Lance sighed happily. How did he get so lucky?

 

 

Allura had decided to take her tea on the balcony while she looked over some castle documents for the month. The day was pleasantly sunny, but a chilly breeze took any heat out of the air. She was grateful for her hot drink and warm woolen shawl. Below her, she could hear the shouts and laughter as Pidge, Hunk and Shay tried to figure out the hedge maze.

Pidge was forging on ahead, determined to figure out the maze without Shay’s knowledge. He was ding admirably, but what really caught Allura’s eye was the way Hunk caught Shay’s hand and pointed out a flower blooming in the hedge. She stifled her smile behind her cup as he plucked it at tucked it behind Shay’s hair.

“Ah!” Coran sighed as he spotted them, “Young love!”

“It is quite sweet.” Allura agreed.

“Perhaps Lance should ask him for a few tips.” Coran commented, pushing Allura into a fit of giggles.

“I would agree,” Allura said, “But it seems he’s done just fine on his own.”

 

 

“Lance?” Keith asked, “What’s wrong?”

Lance didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was paralyzed, he was mute. Water was rushing around him, filling up his head. Filling up his lungs. He could hear screaming, so much screaming. He could see flames on the surface and blood in the water. He was submerged and drowning. Then, he saw himself through the water, up above. Standing at a window looking down.

_The moat! The moat! Jump into the moat!_

He wanted to cry out, frantically tell them to run. But they keep dropping into the water to escape the flames, unaware of the rain of arrows slicing through the water.

There was so much blood, so many bodies… When Lance screamed he tasted gore and ash and death on his tongue.

A sudden sting across his cheeks jolted him back to reality. He was safe. He was nestled in between Keith and Shiro on the plush couch in their room, wrapped in a blanket and Netflix buffering on the laptop on his lap.

Keith soothed a hand down his back. Shiro apologized for slapping him.

“Lance?” Shiro asked, “Are you okay? Was this… a nap?”

“No,” Lance rasped, “No, I’ve never—I don’t know what this was.”

“What happened? You were tranced out, then you started screaming.” Shiro told him.

“I think… I was in the moat? There was fire and people were jumping in. Someone was firing a-arrows and I saw them dying…” Lance trailed off.

“It’s alright, we’ve got you.” Keith told him.

Lance nodded.

“I think we should go look at the moat. I saw myself at that window.” He told them, “The one that exploded.”

Shiro looked uneasy.

“I don’t think that’s safe. What if a malicious entity showed you that to lure you there?”

Keith nodded.

Lance considered, but shook his head firmly.

“I need to go. I have to see.” Lance said firmly.

The other two didn’t like it, but agreed.

“We go with you, then. And don’t get to close to the broken window.” Shiro told him.

Lance nodded.

Keith tried to ignore what sounded like a woman screaming in his head to stop Lance.

 

 

Hunk and Shay were reading a plaque on a nearby statue when it happened. Pidge had just finished collecting a water sample from the moat to test later. He had hardly even turned back around when something grabbed him.

Pidge was paralyzed with fear. The cold, wet fingers that held his wrist had the strength of a shackle. He pulled to no avail and with rising panic, he opened his mouth to call out to Hunk. Nothing. No words escaped from him. With horror, he realized he was being pulled back and down, into the moat.

He reached out to the sight of Hunk’s turned back as he plummeted into the water.

Freezing murky water surrounded him and he took a second to steel himself to his own fear before he opened his eyes.

His gaze was meet by the blank gaze of hundreds of the dead. They reached out to him with rotting, skeletal fingers. His screams were met with a rush of foul water filling his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review to keep Pidge alive.
> 
> (Just kidding! He lives either way, but please review anyway!)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait. I moved, changed jobs and had some writers block. I hope you enjoy.

“What was that?” Hunk asked, whipping around at the sound of a splash.

He watched as ripples spread across the top of the moat. There was no sign of anything else amiss.

“Just a frog,” Shay laughed at his startle, “They jump into the moat often.”

“Big frog.” Hunk commented.

Still, he couldn’t shake the unease that he was missing something. He caught Shay glancing over her shoulder as well, running her fingers gingerly over the neck brace. Hunk reached out and took her hand in his own.

“You were telling me about Sendak the Horrible?” He said.

“Sendak the Horrid.” Shay laughed.

“Yeah, that guy.”

“Where was I?” Shay mused, turning back to the stone statue they had been contemplating.

The statue had probably been greatly detailed at one point, but weather had worn it down into vague shapes and curves. Pidge had commented earlier that the wear on it made them look like something would without his glasses. Hunk could almost make out the proud stance of a young boy in tattered robes one hand wielding an axe and the other raised triumphantly, fisting the hair of a severed head.

“Something about abductions?” Hunk supplied, “This isn’t about aliens is it?”

“Don’t be silly,” She said, “But yes. Sendak and his men would attack the outlying villages and take the men and boys. They would force them to fight in a ring against Galra soldiers. This was how the most fearsome of Galra warriors were trained. Most of the men died in the ring, unable to defend against the weapons and armor that outfitted the Galra. Those who fought and won would later succumb to starvation or disease.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Horrid.” She corrected with a grin, “But it’s not the boys who are important in this story.”

Hunk eyed the statue of the young boy before raising an eyebrow in question.

“Among the men taken was an astronomer and his son Matei. The father died quickly, but Matei survived a while. Back home, they had left behind Matei’s sister Cătălina. Cătălina was smart and cunning, but most of all Cătălina was angry. And her fiery righteousness rained Hell down on the Galra. She gathered a group of similar young women, strong and bitter at the loss of their families. They cut their hair, bound their chests and dressed as a group of traveling acolytes and wandered where they would surely be caught.”

“Why?” Hunk asked.

“They was nothing Sendak loved more than spitting in the face of our God. Plus, acolytes are pacifists. They carry no weapons. It did not occur to Sendak’s men to search the group. Obviously, they were armed to the teeth under their heavy robes.

Once they were brought to the holding area- a place called Fort Arus, with the element of surprise, they attacked. It was short work for them to take over the fort, as the majority of the soldiers and Sendak were out leading an attack on the Castle of Lions. Upon learning of her father’s death, Cătălina went berserk, slaughtering the bound Galra men. But she showed enough restraint to save the most important man for last.

In a stroke of luck, Lotor, Prince of the Galra had been staying at the fort. Cătălina gathered an audience in the courtyard. There, surrounded by the corpses of Galra men, freed survivors and their saviors, Cătălina offered her axe to Matei. She would share in her revenge with him alone. But he refused. He claimed that he had enough with killing and he would do no more.

She spoke then. ‘Rest now, brother, and I will be your strength. I will light the dark night with hope and lead Altea into a new dawn.’

As the sun rose, she cut off Lotor’s head and raised it to the sky. This is widely considered to be the turning point in the war. Because of Cătălina’s actions, Lotor and his men were unable to act as reinforcements to Sendak as planned, and he was captured and eventually executed. The Galra fell and Cătălina spent the rest of her days as a hero.

After her eventual death, Matei carved this piece as a tribute to what Cătălina had done in his wake. Rough and unrefined as it is, it is still a masterpiece.”

Hunk regarded the statue with renewed respect. He pointed to some carved words at the bottom.

“What does that say?” He asked.

“Cătălina at the Break of Day.” Shay responded, “It’s the piece’s name.”

“I like her.” Hunk decided, “She’s friend shaped.”

“Friend shaped?” Shay asked, “I suppose she is.”

 

 

Lance knew the moment he crossed the threshold into HQ that he had made the wrong decision. He should have stayed away. Ignored his dream. The very air around him was heavy, so heavy, pressing against him with angry force. He wanted to turn and run.

“Hey, Lance?” Keith said, “Can you move out of the doorway so that we can come in too?”

Lance jolted slightly. He pressed on despite the twisting in his gut and the other two men entered the room as well. Lance studied them for a moment. If they felt anything off, they didn’t show any sign of it.

“Just a quick look, right?” Shiro asked him, “I don’t like this, so the sooner we’re done the better.”

Lance privately agreed, but didn’t think telling Shiro that was a great idea if he wanted to have enough time to check everything over.

“Yeah. Quick look. The quickest.” Lance replied distractedly.

Keith and Shiro traded looks.

Lance could feel the burning gaze of something unseen on the back of his neck. The same gaze that had loomed down on him in the dungeons. It smoldered closer now, the danger more imminent.

The shadows were closing in.

Lance took cautious steps toward the shattered window and pulled down the plastic sheet they had covered it with. With its jagged edges it looking all the world like a gaping maw just waiting for him to stray closer.

With no small amount of courage, he reached the sill of the window. He reached out to grip the side for balance and realized he was shaking. It wasn’t the little tremors of fear this time, but unstoppable quaking. He opened his mouth to let out a joke—a useless and deceitful trick of the tongue to fool those around him into believing all to be well—but his words seemed to have deserted him.

Vaguely, he could hear the other speaking to him, but the sound came to him as if through water, muffled and distorted. He wanted to turn his attention to them, but it was as if his eyes were being drawn down. He fought against it, panic suddenly welling up inside him.

He remembered. What he saw that first day.

In the moat.

With a sharp cry he jerked back from the window, unwilling to look.

“Lance?!”

Despite the steps he took back, he was seized by unseen hands and thrown forward again. He slammed into the window sill, just barely managing to keep himself from toppling out by folding his body over it. The jagged remains of window bit into his stomach and his breath punched out of his lungs, but neither hurt compared to the horror laid before his eyes.

Just like before, there was so much blood. Untold amounts of death and gore stewing in the hot sun, like the delta of the river Styx. The bones of the poor sufferers still grinning up at him like they were all in on a sick joke. Like they were plotting.

And Pidge was drowning in it.

Caught, or held down, or just failing to surface… Lance wanted to scream. He wanted to wail and rage and break down and cry. He wanted to take a baseball bat to all those _stupid fucking smug ass smiles_ and shatter every skull down there.

Pidge was _his_.

All of his crew belonged to him and he’d be damned if he let some half-assed unrested soul take anything from him. Pidge and Hunk both followed him and had promised to protect them. Like his Abuelita he had given his word to keep them from any harm from what they might encounter because of him. He didn’t intend to fail like she had.

_You cannot save him, boy._

Hands gripped him and pulled him back from edge, and he found fighting against Shiro’s strong arms.

“Lance, calm down! What happened?” Shiro said, holding him still.

“Let go! Let him go!!” Lance yelled.

“What are you talking about?!” Keith said.

Shiro realized Lance wasn’t looking at him, but over his shoulder. Chills crept down his spine.

“I’ll kill you! Let him go!” Lance screeched, glaring at Kadnes’ twisted smirk.

 _You cannot save him, boy…_ Kadnes mouthed, _but there is someone who can._

Shiro whipped around to find nothing behind him. No one. Lance had gone eerily quiet.

“…who?” Lance hissed.

Keith had just reached them when Lance went entirely limp. They helped him settle softly onto the floor.

“He’s out cold.” Shiro told him seriously, “Go get the doctor.”

“No way! I’m not leaving you two here—“

“Go!” Shiro shouted, causing Keith to flinch.

The ringing started softly at first, a low hum in Keith’s ear, but when he turned to follow Shiro’s order it had steadily grown to a high pitched wail so loud he could’ve swore his ears would bleed. Before he knew it he was collapsed onto his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

The last thing he saw before blacking out was Shiro’s helpless look or despair and the angel wailing behind him.

 

 

_Lance could feel the cool brush of winter before he was truly aware of himself. His eyes opened the soft haze of freshly fallen snow and the quiet brightness it lent the night. There was a silence blanketing Witch Trap that was unfamiliar to his ears. The hum of cicadas, chorus of frogs and even the dull roar of the nearby creek; all dead silent. Even the wind dared only to whisper through the trees._

_He stood under the Cottonwood._

_“Hello again, Duende!” Lance called out to the spirit he now expected._

_There was no response._

_For a moment, Lance wondered if perhaps she had finally moved on. Then, he was seized from behind by frozen fingers._

_“Lance!” She sobbed, “Leave!”_

_“I’m sorry. I think you know why I’m here.” Lance told her calmly._

_He turned in her hold, finally taking a good look at her. This was no passing glimpse or secondhand memory. She was beautiful in a harsh way. With straight thin features and hard eyes. She looked angry and sad and so pale that Lance could almost swear she was made of snow herself. Her inky hair hung in icy locks tangling with the rope knotted at the hollow of her neck._

_“Don’t…! Please…!” She wheezed._

_Lance took her hands in his._

_“Really, Duende,” Lance said firmly, “I wish I could give you more time to resolve whatever it is keeping you her.”_

_“Trapped!”_

_“But Pidge needs me to do this. I would do anything for him.”_

_“No… no…”_

_“Even if it kills me and you and lets that horrible fucker win.” Lance told her, “I can’t let it hurt them. I won’t.”_

_Duende pushed him hard, sending him to the ground. She stepped back, eyes turning fearful. Lance heart ached at the thought of what he had to do._

_Every spirit he had met here had been angry, hurt, mourning even… but they were all human once. Abuelita had taught Lance to treat them respectfully. With kindness and patience. It was his gift to be able to help them move on, but he never forced them into it._

_He never had to before._

_“Sybil Greenwood, I command you to leave this place.”_

_The apparition before him jerked as if physically struck by his words. She let out a horrifying screech of pain as she gripped her head. The guilt of using her true name against her squeezed at his heart. He wasn’t playing fair._

_“Leave!” Lance demanded, “You are not welcome here!”_

_The witch’s wails grew louder still, and Lance felt tears sting at his eyes. He knew this would be painful for her, but the reality of using his gift to harm her was starting to overwhelm him._

_“Bend to my will!” He yelled, tears starting to fall, “Leave!”_

_Her screaming cut off with an abruptness that made him flinch. She was gone, suddenly terribly gone, as if she had never been there at all. Without her there to influence his mindscape Witch Trap faded away into a blur. He caught flashes of a few locations; the GUPRS base, his mother’s grave, the daycare he picked his cousin Mia up from. None of them lasted for more than a few seconds before they faded into the dark dank of the dungeons. He recognized the Undercroft, and the sensation of being watched that came with it._

_He steeled himself against his own fear and turned to stare straight into the mouth of Hell._

_“Pidge will emerge unharmed as per our deal?” Lance asked the entity._

_The figure, blacker than the shadows it resided in, nodded silently._

_“Then I surrender myself to you.”_

_And he was swallowed whole._

“Lance!” Shiro cried in relief when Lance stirred in his arms.

The man blinked blankly up at him.

“Are you alright? Were you napping or just unconscious?” Shiro asked.

There was no response from Lance. Instead he struggled to his feet, pushing Shiro away. Shiro hovered next to him, not wanting to push but too worried to back off. Lance looked around silently before pulling a piece of glass slowly out of his stomach. It didn’t seem to have gone deep enough to seriously harm him, but the sight of the blood-tinted glass in Lance’s hand made Shiro’s stomach twist in horror.

Lance dropped the glass and turned to stare at Shiro for a long moment.

“Lance?” Shiro asked.

Something was off. Was he actually badly hurt? Was there more glass? Had he hit his head?

Without a single word or warning, Lance turned away from him and vaulted out the window.

Shiro could hardly believe his eyes. It felt as if his whole world was falling apart around him. He staggered to the window, feeling tears well up and spill as he steeled himself to look over the edge.

Pidge had come to accept his death and subsequent joining of the legion of the dead when Lance plunged into the water next to him.

Typical, Pidge thought before Lance gripped him and wrenched him to the surface.

He was thrown roughly up onto land again and realized promptly that he still couldn’t breathe. Lance climbed easily out of the moat and stared expectantly down at him. Pidge was starting to think something wasn’t quite right, but was suddenly sure when Lance spoke.

“Useless bitch.” He spat, kneeling next to Pidge and compressing his chest harshly.

Moat water and other things Pidge didn’t want to think about was forced out of his lungs and stomach. Lance turned Pidge over and stood, letting him force the rest out himself.

“Lance!!” Shiro screamed from above, hanging out the window, “Oh, thank god!!”

“Lance? Pidge?!” Hunk cried, running over with Shay.

Shay stopped short at the grin Lance gave her.

“What happened? Pidge?” Hunk cried, kneeling down to check on him.

“I… I was pulled under…” Pidge croaked between rattling coughs. “Held there…”

“No way!” Hunk said, “We were standing right here! We would have heard!”

Pidge glared up at him.

“I. Was. Held. Under.” Pidge hissed.

“Okay! Okay,” Hunk soothed, “By what?”

“By the fucking skeleton crew! I don’t fucking know!” Pidge snapped.

“Okay!” Hunk said again, “Let’s get you to Rax and we can talk about it later. Shay?”

Hunk looked up to where Shay was backing away from Lance, whom looked on with distant amusement.

“How did you get here, Lance?” Hunk asked, looking back up to where Shiro was still watching from a window, four stories up, “Surly, you didn’t…”

He was certain Lance hadn’t come behind them, but there was no way he would have walked away from that kind of fall unharmed, moat or otherwise.

“Jumped.” Lance grunted, “I’m tired now. Leave me be while I rest.”

“Wait!” Hunk called as Lance walked away.

Lance continued back into the castle casually.

“Let him go,” Pidge wheezed, “We have to talk.”

Hunk nodded uneasily and helped carry Pidge back to the castle with Shay. Many of the staff called out worriedly to Shay and scurried off when Shay called back in Romanian.

“They will fetch the Countess.” Shay told him.

When they reached the warm, sunny room that Rax based his healing in, they were surprised to find Shiro waiting there with an unconscious Keith.

“Lance?” Shiro asked urgently.

Hunk frowned.

“Said he was tired. Wanted to rest alone.”

“What?!” Shiro demanded, “No one goes alone!”

“I know!” Hunk cried, “I just thought getting Pidge here was more important than stopping him from being moody!”

“He jumped out a window!” Shiro snapped.

“And Pidge almost drowned!” Hunk snapped back.

“No yelling.” Rax sighed waving a hand toward Keith, “He’s sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” Shiro asked.

“Sleeping,” Rax said, “Knocked out, same thing.”

“It’s not.” Pidge said, “Unless I just went for a pleasant swim.”

Rax looked unimpressed.

“I drowned.” Pidge said, “Fix it.”

Hunk was shocked when this seemed to get Rax’s respect. He immeadialty went to checking Pidge’s vitals.

“I’m going to go find Lance,” Shiro announced.

“Wait.” Pidge told him, “I have to tell you something.”

“I need to find him now.” Shiro said impatiently.

“He’s not himself right now.” Pidge told him, “You need to leave him be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did he nap?”

Hunk realized suddenly what was happening.

“He was out for maybe fifteen seconds. He woke up and immeadialty jumped out the window. Does that have to do with…?”

“Yes,” Pidge said, “Sometime he comes back not feeling quite himself. Never lasts long, never serious, but we need to give him space.”

“He says sometime they leave personality imprints,” Hunk added, “The spirits, I mean.”

“Some punk ass spirit,” Pidge pouted, “He called me a useless bitch.”

“Lance said that?” Shiro asked uneasily.

“Yeah, but I know it wasn’t really him. Which is why it’s best to leave him be for a time. Let him shake it off on his own. He always feels guilty when he does mean things.”

“I can take it,” Shiro said, “But it’s dangerous—“

“He’s a grown man, Shiro.” Pidge said, “He’s survived this long without you. He’ll live. Wait until Keith wakes up and then you can go after him.”

Shiro grumbled, but reluctantly agreed.

“Besides, I have more to tell you.”

Pidge gave Shiro a long, hard look.

“When my dad and brother disappeared and you were possessed, were you at Fort Arus?”

Shiro jerked.

“How did you--?”

“When I was in the moat… they talked to me. They called me by a different name, called me their hero. They said that they would help me reunite with my family.”

There was a long heavy silence.

“Cătălina.” Hunk said in wonder, “Cătălina!”

Pidge was pinned by another look of respect from the stern doctor.

“Yeah, actually.” Pidge said. “They told me to start looking at Fort Arus after I save them. I’m not exactly all that hopeful but…”

“It’s worth going.” Shiro said, “But who is Cătălina?”

“A war hero from Castle of Lions’ history! Pidge, reincarnation!” Hunk exclaimed, “Scientifically, it’s—“

“Totally impossible. Must be a coincidence.” Pidge shut him down.

“But--!”

“No.”

“Your friend is knocked up.” Rax said blandly, pointing to Keith whom was groggily sitting up.

Pidge and Hunk burst into laughter while Shiro came over to fret over Keith.

“Knocked up!” Pidge wheezed in mirth, “Have you told Lance?”

Rax looked confused.

“Knocked out, knocked up…” He said.

“No!” Shay said frantically, “They aren’t opposites!”

“English is weird.” Rax dismissed. “Unimportant. Awake now.”

“What happened?” Keith asked slowly.

Shiro took a moment to get him up to speed. Keith balked at the amount of things that had transpired in the half hour he was unconscious.

“What happened to you?” Shiro asked.

“Me? I don’t know.” Keith said, “I just passed out. Can we go find Lance now?”

“Uh, I guess so.” Shiro said, looking to Rax.

He got a nod of approval and helped Keith to his feet.

“Tell Allura we’ll speak to her tomorrow.” He told them.

He waved goodbye to the others and led Keith to their room. He couldn’t help but notice the way Keith was hurrying.

“Keith?” He asked.

“It’s nothing. I just really feel like I have to see Lance. He’s mine.”

“What?” Shiro asked.

“He’s our friend.” Keith said, “I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Shiro nodded but couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was going on. It was a feeling that was quickly growing old. They reached their room and went inside.

Lance wasn’t there.

“Let’s find him.” Keith said.

“No, settle down. Lay down.” Shiro put his foot down, “I’ll find him.”

“But—“Keith started but stopped when he saw Shiro’s expression.

He sighed and plopped down onto the bed.

“Just bring him back quick, okay?”

Shiro nodded and took his leave. He had a vague idea of where Lance may be, having not spotted him on the way to their room. He turned off the main way and set off down a long winding hallway that lead to the parlor near the dungeon entrance. Lance had often meet with “Kadnes” there. He had mentioned liking that room particularly.

Now that he was alone, Shiro tried to sort things out in his head. So much was happening, and so quickly, too. He felt like he was missing something big. But what?

When Shiro found Lance we was standing in the middle of the parlor, back turned to him and standing totally still. In his hand, his cellphone was still light up and flashing the ended call screen. The hallway was sparsely lit from the setting sun, casting long distorted shadows. For a brief moment Shiro felt his skin crawl, felt the intense urge to turn back, to run away… but that was ridiculous.

“Lance?” Shiro called out.

There was no reaction. Lance continued to stand eerily still. Shiro took a hesitant step forward. The second he moved Lance’s head whipped around to him. The older man froze. Silence stretched between them.

“Lance? Is, uh—is everything alright?” Shiro asked softly.

Lance didn’t respond for a long moment, face deadpan. To Shiro it seemed as if was trying to process what he had said.

“Yeah.” Lance said finally, drawling out his words, “Fine.”

Lance turned and took creeping strides toward him. The shadows he cast seemed to slither along the walls. Shiro took a step back. Lance paused in front of him.

“What’s wrong, Takeshi?”

The blood turned to ice in Shiro’s veins. Lance’s hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him forward. The gleam in his eyes wasn’t the familiar mischievous one that Shiro loved, but one of malicious.

The smirk that twisted his lips wasn’t his own.

“Who are you?” Shiro hissed, trying to pry himself from the other.

He was released momentarily, before Lance grabbed him by the throat. With overwhelming strength, he was slammed back into a stone pillar. His breath escaped him and his whole body sang with pain. He kicked his feet around, unable to reach the ground. Lance grinned up at him innocently.

“Oohh, Takeshi.” He cooed, “I haven’t felt so alive in a long time!”

Shiro wanted to cry. To scream. To get away from here, to fix Lance…

As he felt his consciousness fading, one desire took over his mind.

He wanted to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do people always get hurt at the end of chapters?  
> Also, If you haven't noticed, this is a series now. Go read the other one! It's a prequel.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back. And I gotta say, I think has been my favorite chapter to write so far!
> 
> (If you thought things had gone to Hell before.... lmao, sorry folks!)

When Shiro woke, it was a slow and foggy return to awareness. First, it was the sounds; the hisses and whispers teasing his hearing, just loud enough to be tangible but quite enough to be intelligible. Then he became aware of the pain. There was a tightness in his throat and the discomfort of laying on what felt like a cold, rocky surface.

It took Shiro another few moments to realize that he couldn’t see. And a few more to remember what had happened. Panic slammed into him, hard and fast and overwhelming. He let it wash over him and fill his mind before he beat it back with the ease of long practice. It couldn’t let fear rule him when he was in danger.

_Lance._

Another wave of worry washed over him. Whatever had brought him here might have been wearing Lance’s skin, but it wasn’t him. Shiro knew all too well what it was like to be a puppet. Lance must be hurting right now. If he could just get him restrained and safely into Father Balmera’s hands…

Shiro’s train of thought was abruptly derailed when he saw a red light blink in the darkness. What was that? It looked familiar, like…

The low power light on an X Cam.

Unease creeped down his spine. The only place that was dark and cold and had abandoned X Cams was the Undercroft. Shiro desperately hoped he was wrong. Gingerly, he pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the various muscle aches and bruises that made themselves known. The floor under his boots crunched with his tentative steps while he reached out an exploratory hand into the dark before him. He felt exposed, as if at any second he would be struck down by a danger that had yet to be seen.

After what felt like a lifetime of tiny, cautious steps and feeling around, his hand closed around the familiar shape of the X Cam. He slipped a hand into the grip and popped open the viewfinder. The small screen flared to life, blinding him momentarily. Shiro flinched away from the light, letting his eyes adjust. He hesitated another moment, scared of what he might see in the dark. With a deep breath, he braced himself and pulled the device closer to his face as he would when using the night vision function to navigate a blackout investigation.

Suddenly, the idea of seeking out the dead seemed irreconcilably idiotic to him. He nearly laughed at the thought that he had chosen this life for himself. That they all had. The thought that their curiosity and ill-advised wanderlust had somehow cultivated into this lifestyle of danger and risk and _fear_ nearly had him in hysterics. He had made his bed and, not for the first time, he was laying in it.

In the newly revealed shadows, Shiro found nothing but dirty, dank stone walls and rotting wooden doors. The chills that raced along his skin told him that he wasn’t alone and the X Cam told him that he didn’t have long to get away. 12% battery. Less than an hour.

This wasn’t a room he was familiar with but he was undeniably in the dungeon. After struggling to recall what Lance had told him about the layout of the dungeon days ago, Shiro resigned himself to only a vague analogy that stuck out in his mind.

Spokes on a wheel.

Every room down here was attached to a hallway that was like a spoke on a wheel. If he followed the hallway to the central hub, he could find his way out from there.

Feeling marginally better now that he had a plan that consisted of more than _get away now_ , Shiro squared his shoulders and made his way to the door. He pulled open the decrepit door, wincing as it released an agonizing groan that went on for what felt like an eternity, he stepped into the hallway.

With nothing more than a dying night vision camera and concern for Lance, he forged on into the shadows.

And if he heard the disembodied footsteps that trailed after him he steadfastly ignored them.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith knew right away that something was off. Hours before Lance and Shiro failed to show up he had been searching the castle halls for any trace of them. Pidge and Hunk would hinder his search and he didn’t trust the Father at all. It had to be him to find them.

_Lance._

_Mine._

There was a fervency to his hunt that scared a part of him, but it was quickly pushed back by his need to _find the man_ _he loved_.

Loved? Keith adored Lance in a strong way that had happened fast but he supposed it was entirely too soon to be throwing that word around and furthermore—

The image of Lance, sobbing and scared, huddled against a great tree framed by autumn leaves and inhuman chill flashed through his mind. He was crying like his heart had been shattered by some cruel betrayal and it had resonated through him, striking whatever little shard of his heart was left after centuries of anger and vengeance and he knew at that moment that he would never let him go. Lance was his and his alone to protect. It was the moment he fell in love.

A sharp pain piercing through his head, causing him to stop and clutch at it. For a few seconds, Keith was confused but dismissed it after a second.

He loved Lance. So he had to find him. Anything else, he could wait to think about.

 

* * *

 

 

Even through the grainy green of the night vision display, there was low visibility as Shiro crept through the hall. Every step he made seemed to be echoed behind him and every doorway he passed seemed to be a gaping maw of shadows that could be harboring any number of things inside them, ready to jump out at him.

Shiro realized suddenly that this was the first time he was truly scared for his safety since before his exorcism. Afterwards, whatever he had faced in lockdowns or investigations with Keith had seemed pale and bland in comparison to the horror he had survived. Most of his memories of the time were missing, sure, but nothing really comes close after that.

He had never been alone after that. Now, though, he was totally, utterly alone and fear came creeping back into his life. This feeling was what he worked to save others from.

It was debilitating.

Normally, Shiro could stand tall and face down the shadows just because he knew he was stronger. Here he was though; staggering down the hall at a snail’s pace, flinching from every crunch of his step and shying away from every open doorway.

He would hold on to this feeling going forward, though. He wasn’t invincible, none of them were. Perhaps it was pride that got them into this mess. They bit off more than they could chew and now they were paying for it.

Pride was a fatal flaw, after all. He just hoped he had realized his before it was too late.

The hall was long, but he had to move faster. He only had 10% battery left.

 

* * *

 

 

Pidge and Hunk were discussing their missing teammates with Father Balmera in the headquarters when Keith had stalked in and stared at them.

“Hey, Keith, you seen Lance since… Keith?” Hunk trailed off when the man didn’t acknowledge him at all.

He just stared at the Father as if he had done something to offend him.

“Keith? How are you feeling?” The man asked.

Father Balmera watched the man closely, as he turned away without a word.

“Keith?”

“Come with me. I searched the castle last night. The only place he could be is the dungeon.”

“He? Don’t you mean ‘they’?” He asked carefully.

“Plus, Lance gets flighty when he gets imprints, and Shiro probably went to comfort him. No reason to get panicked yet,” Pidge put in, but was also ignored.

“Allura refused to give me the key to me until you were ready. So, hurry up.” Keith snapped shortly.

Pidge and Hunk traded a long look, but Father Balmera motioned for them to stay silent.

“Alright, Keith.” He pacified, “We’ll meet you down there.”

Keith eyed the man warily, but eventually turned and left without another word. The Father rolled his eyes as Pidge and Hunk immeadialty broke into a chorus of “Rude!” and “What’s his deal?!”

“I mean, I know Lance and Shiro are missing and he’s worried, but we all are!” Pidge said, “Besides, if Shiro’s there Lance is probably fine. He’s definitely overreacting.”

“It’s not like him…” Hunk said thoughtfully.

“Sharp eyes, young man.” The Father commented, “My theory is that he went out and picked himself up an attachment.”

“Uh oh.” The two investigators chimed together.

Father Balmera laughed.

“You’re probably thinking of Lance’s attachments. After his trances’? Those are more like imprints, really. He gets all of the symptoms: mood swings, confusion, false memories and overall strange behavior. But his fade away within days. Hours, even. This is the real deal.”

“Our Preternatural Pests class had a whole section on attachments but the information was vague and theoretical at best and laughable at worst.” Pidge said.

Father Balmera seemed to chew on his words for a moment.

“Garrison is a wonderful school for even offering Parapsychology, let alone specializing in it. It still falls victim to one of the greatest downfalls of paranormal research, though.”

“What’s that?” Hunk asked.

“Science,” The Father stated, “While spirits and science do have some correlations, paranormal research oftentimes relies heavily on—well, spiritualism. Gut feelings, seeing the unseen, religion! All are impossible to corral in a scientific manner but are very core elements of supernatural phenomenon.”

“And we did learn about all that,” Pidge said, “But we were also warned to take them with a grain of salt.”

“Lance is a brilliant investigator, isn’t he?”

Pidge pouted at the change of subject but went along with it.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What makes him so good at this?” Balmera asked.

“His _talent_.” Pidge said.

Father Balmera raised a brow.

“There’s more to it than that. I mean, Shiro isn’t gifted and he is still a great investigator.” Hunk spoke up, “Lance senses things and reacts immeadialty. His instincts are spot on and more often than not he knows how to deal with things. Everything we’ve come across he’s either seen it before or heard about it from his family.”

“Our whole field really boils down to one thing: experience. You can graduate with a master’s in Parapsychology without ever having a single ghostly encounter.”

Pidge and Hunk took a moment to let that process.

“When you first experienced something truly unexplainable were you prepared for it?”

“No.” Hunk said immeadialty, “And I don’t think anything could have prepared me for it.”

Pidge frowned. Shadow people were the worst.

“That’s right. Don’t get me wrong, that degree is important. It will bring credibility in a field where more often than not you’ll be called a hoax. Just remember that we are dealing with something extremely dangerous and we don’t have time to take things with a grain of salt.”

Pidge sighed. One day, he would be the one to finally prove ghosts scientifically, but Father Balmera was right. This wasn’t the time.

“Let’s grab some equipment then.” Pidge said, “Cameras, lights, recorders. Lance would be pissed if we didn’t at least try to catch something while we are down there.”

 

* * *

 

 

When the hall finally ended, Shiro stopped short.

Lance was standing silently in the center of the Undercroft, swaying slightly as if he was letting the chilly draft push him around. He was staring blankly ahead facing the stairway to the well-lit halls of the castle main and Shiro had just emerged from the hallway behind him. Shiro wanted to call out to him, but the twinge in his neck reminded him of why that was more than likely a bad idea. He was certain there was a ring of finger-shaped bruises staining the skin there.

Fuck. 7%.

The whispers were louder here. Angrier. Shiro could feel his heart pounding in every inch of his body. His entire being was warning him of danger and it was all coming from Lance. He wasn’t paying attention to Shiro, though. He was in a trance.

With a sinking heart, Shiro realized that he would have to walk directly in front of him to get to the stairs. While an escape was possible still, it now seemed far more risky. Steeling himself, Shiro crept forward, edging along the outer wall silently. He was careful of his footing and even more careful to keep his camera and eyes on Lance. He didn’t want to leave himself blind to any surprises. As he rounded the room, he fought off the chill that came along with having to choose between leaving his back open to the offset halls or take his eyes off the other man. It made his breath freeze in his lungs and filled him with dread, but he couldn’t seem to convince his eyes to leave Lance. The way he was swaying lured his vision and Shiro shuddered at how hypnotic it seemed.

This was dangerous. He had to leave quickly. The path around the room would have only taken him half a minute if he were walking normally, but at his slow and silent pace it seemed to drag on for millennia. The whispering, the gentle rocking of Lance’s body, the ominous countdown of the battery display (only 5% now)… it all blurred into one long stretch of anxiety and fear.

As he rounded the room, Lance’s face came into view, innocent and glazed over. Still, Shiro was struck with the irrational fear that at any moment Lance’s eyes would slide over to him and pin him in place with his empty gaze. He told himself firmly that it was a silly thing to dread and continued on his way.

And just when Shiro though it would swallow him whole, it was over.

He was about two feet from the stairwell entrance. Relief flooded over him for an instant before he realized that he would now have to duck directly into Lance’s line of sight before he could disappear around the curve of the spiral stairway. Trance aside, this was the best way for him to draw his attention… which was the last thing he wanted. If Shiro was right about what was affecting Lance, then what he needed was to leave Lance be until he had the Father’s help.

As he was, Lance would be volatile at best. His senses heightened, his strength monstrous; Lance was an immediate and urgent danger. But only if he was disturbed.

Shiro took a moment to weigh his options one last time. He could make a break for it and fetch help, potentially drawing Lance’s wrath or he could wait down here in the belly of the beast, dark and unforgiving as it was, and wait on help to come to him. The thought of one of their team wandering down here, unaware of the danger that lay hidden behind Lance’s empty grin made him shudder.

That wasn’t an option. He had to warn them.

Shiro took one last lingering look at Lance’s face in the murky green of the night vision display. If he were unaware of the situation he could almost imagine that Lance was simply day dreaming, lost in his own pleasant thoughts. The idea of leaving him alone down here, however briefly, caused his heart to ache guiltily. It had to be done.

With a deep breath, Shiro darted into the stairwell and raced up the stairs like the devil was on his heels. He flew up the flight in no time and reached the heavy iron doors within seconds. He paused for a moment, holding back his panicked breaths to listen.

Silence. Not even the hissing, muttering voices that had been teasing his ears were audible now. Lance hadn’t followed him up. He used the camera to scan the stairway behind him. Nothing. He had really made it.

He reached out, grabbing ahold of the doors and pushing them open. He felt instantly lighter as the light of the halls washed over him. Wild, desperate hope filled him as he put a foot out into the hall.

He was out. He was out.

“Boo!”

Shiro’s blood froze as he heard Lance’s whisper in his ear. Before he could move a hand wrapped around his wrist and flung him backwards with great force, sending him head first down the stairs. He clutched desperately to the camera as he landed painfully on his arm before momentum kept him rolling down. In the dark, he was blind again when he landed back in the Undercroft. Agony fizzled along his nerves and he wanted to scream but he couldn’t seem to draw any air into his lungs. He lay there, suffering as he heard Lance descend the steps, whistling a jolly tune in the dark.

Shiro turned his head to find the camera still in his hand, illuminating him in the soft blue light of an error screen. The display was cracked but it seemed to be operable. Frantically, Shiro tried to raise it up to watch for Lance but he couldn’t make himself move. Every effort was torture and panic did nothing to assist him. Lance steps crept closer, eventually stopping over him.

Standing there, grinning down at him in the sparse blue light he easily qualified for the most terrifying thing Shiro had ever seen. There wasn’t even a bit of Lance left in his eyes.

“Just what were you trying to do there?” He asked, too happily.

Shiro tore his eyes away to glance at the camera once more. The light was fading away. Finally, it was dying.

“Oh, your camera. Let me fix that for you!”

A foot stomped down on his arm, causing an audible snap. Shiro gasped in horror at the sound, anticipating the oncoming pain, but it never came. With a helpless whine, he realized he couldn’t feel his arm. He couldn’t feel it at all.

“Whoops, I missed!” Lance chuckled, “Let’s try again!”

Writhing desperately to get away, Shiro was forced to watch as Lance’s boot came down again on his elbow, shattering it. The image caused nausea to well in him. Horror filled him at the way Lance looked back at him playfully.

“Third time’s the charm, right?”

Shiro opened his mouth to beg, to scream, to sob--- anything at all that would stop him. Lance laughed and raised his foot again. The manic gleam in his eye promised pain.

This time, his foot came down with a final crunch as it smashed through the camera and his hand, plunging them into darkness again.

Finally, Shiro screamed.

 

* * *

 

 

“Abuelita, how much longer till we land?”

The sleepy voice brought a smile to her face, despite her unease. She reached out to give the young man a pat on his scruffy cheek.

“A few hours yet, Aarón, get some more rest.” She assured him.

“Can’t. Bad dreams.” He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes, “’M too worried about Lance.”

Though she wanted to comfort her oldest grandchild, Rosa Maria was not in the habit of lying to her family. She could not coddle him at a time like this. She cast a glance around the plane. There were few passengers and those there were not paying attention to them.

“Tell me about the phone call again, mijo.”

Aarón yawned and settled back into his chair.

“Aunt Isabel had me call Lance because her calls weren’t going through. He sounded normal at first and all, but he wasn’t really acting right. He didn’t ask about Mia or our sisters. I thought maybe he was preoccupied and all?”

“And?”

The young man scratched at his beard.

“It was just a hunch, ya’know? Something was telling me that it wasn’t really Lance I was talking to so I told him Mama loves him.”

Rosa frowned at the mention of her late daughter, Ana. Guilt still weighed heavy on her for not being able to protect her child. Now, it only made the urgency to keep Ana’s baby safe. Lance was in trouble, it was certain.

“What did he say?”

“He said that he’d see her when he got home.”

Aarón scowled as he said it, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Rosa was familiar with the phrase that must be running through his head.

_To the Moon and back._

As a child, Lance’s mother had adored the phrase “I love you to the moon and back” and had showered it on her kids constantly. Even after her death, they would remind each other. It was like a promise between all of Ana’s children, a ritual of sorts. The wording was exact.

_Mama loves you._ One would say.

_To the moon and back._ The other would respond.

For Lance to get the reply wrong… even if he was preoccupied it would have been reflex for him to say the words back. Something was off.

Rosa Maria hoped she was wrong, but she doubted it. Decades worth of instincts were screaming at her to get to her grandchild. He needed her. When Aarón had insisted on coming along she had initially refused. He had argued that he was just as capable as she was in these situations being a demonologist, but she only budged when he admitted that he would worry incessantly about his baby brother if she left him behind.

If something happened to Lance, Aarón would just as devastated as she would.

She only hoped she that she would get there in time to prevent that something.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance was sitting in the mahogany paneled room that Garrison University had allowed them to use as their club room. There was rows upon rows of old books on parapsychology and cabinets filled with tapes of investigations from the past. A vast meeting table was taking up a majority of the space in the room, but even it fell victim to the clutter. Pidge’s gadgets filled the end closest to their dinosaur of a coffee pot. Scattered among the wires and tools Lance spotted a few of the Paranormal Pucks he had thought they lost. Hunk’s binder of case notes was spread out in front of him, but for once Lance found little to no interest in its contents. The constant hum of the heater stationed in the corner was a familiar theme to a long night spent in GURPS headquarters.

He felt tired, _so tired_.

His very bones ached and his muscles felt like jelly. He fought to keep his eyes open, not because he needed to but because he was too stubborn to give in to sleep just yet.

It couldn’t hurt if he just rested here a while, right? He didn’t need to worry about paperwork now, or anything else really. He felt as if he could just slump down in his chair and watch out the window as the snow fell up towards the sky. A curious smile played on his face, dopey with sleep-deprivation. Surely, that wasn’t normal. He didn’t have the energy to investigate it though.

The moon hung heavy and bright, spilling its light through the window and pouring over him and beating back the shadows that swirled around him like fog in the morning. It brought a measure of comfort to him, like a childhood blanket.

_To the moon and back._

The phrase swirled around in his head, like a song lyric that had lodged itself firmly in his subconscious. It felt important. He wanted to sing it out, to feel the words on his tongue, but finally sleep was pulling him under and he was content to let it.

Just for tonight, he would rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guess what horror game inspired this chapter?

**Author's Note:**

> I watch entirely too much Ghost Adventures.


End file.
